Rough Edges (10 page)

“But you
can
still do yours on wood if you’d like, right?” Allie said.

Paige’s eyes narrowed. “If I
want
.”

Allie looked confused. “I thought you were planning on it. That you just needed the tools and stuff.”

A stare-off ensued, accompanied by a tension-filled bout of deadly quiet.

Braden cleared his throat. “I’d be happy to get you whatever you need,” he said. “In fact, if you want to come by the shop I can help you get started.”

Paige dropped her gaze, picked up her fork, and began poking aimlessly at her food. “I’m not even sure I want to.”

“Well you better decide soon, hon. It’s due in less than three weeks. Mr. Bates said most kids already have a good start on theirs.”

The fork stayed lodged in her food as Paige folded her arms over her chest. “That’s because they all ran to the park after school and shot selfies. They’re using fellow students as their subjects. I wouldn’t do that in a million years.”

Braden felt as if he’d been wedged into the center of an ongoing argument. It seemed odd to him that Allie knew just when the assignment was due. And that she’d been talking with Mr. Bates on Paige’s behalf. It reminded him of that list she’d made for her. Was Paige on the verge of failing, or what?

“So, have you already picked out a subject?” he asked her.

Paige shrugged. “I did, but I’m not doing him anymore.”

“Hmm,” Braden murmured. “Back when I was in school, it didn’t have to be a person. It could be an object too. Has that changed?’

When Paige didn’t answer, Jillian spoke up. “It had to be a person when
I
did it a few years ago. I chose my Uncle Alex. In fact, my mom hung it up in the office.”

Braden nodded, realizing that must have meant a lot to Allie. “I’ll have to take a look at it before I go,” he said.

An irritated puff sounded from Paige’s direction. “Yeah,
she’s
not the artist, but
her
stuff is what’s hanging on the walls.”

“She did a portrait of my dead brother,” Allie said. “If you could draw something other than pictures of the living dead I’d gladly hang your art too.”

“Um, hmm.” Paige slid her chair from the table. “I’m done,” she announced, shoving her hand into her pocket as she went. She retrieved a phone, began tapping at the screen and, in moments flat, she was out of view.

“So,” Allie said, pumping a squirt of lotion onto her hands. “How bad was it?” She watched as Braden leaned against the kitchen counter and folded his arms. The black night seemed to seep in from the windows, making the room appear darker than usual.

“It wasn’t bad at all,” he said, “all things considered.”

She stepped closer to him, nudged the toe of her bare foot against his dusty cowboy boot. “You mean, considering the fact that I have a daughter who hates me, things went alright?”

“She doesn’t hate you, Allie.”

Her gaze drifted up a foot at a time. Slowly. The conversation was important after all, and a part of her was hesitant to hear what he really thought. Her eyes ran along Braden’s dark denim jeans, over his strong, folded arms in that jade green shirt. When she finally met his gaze, Allie saw a list of unspoken words in his eyes, yet she couldn’t read even one of them. Her fear was that Braden was planning to run for the hills. But the look on his face didn’t confirm it.

He cradled her elbow and motioned toward the family room. “Let’s go kick back,” he said. “Take a load off.”

The restless energy bustling about her limbs made Allie want to do anything
but
. Still, she nodded, checking the clock. “Okay.” The girls had long since said goodnight. Whether they were doing homework in their rooms or sound asleep by now, Allie didn’t know. Either way, she knew they’d give her and Braden privacy. Jillian, because she wanted the two to wind up together. And Paige, because she’d be horrified to walk in and find them making out on the couch. The thought made her smile until she realized just how far off that scenario was from really happening. They had things to talk about. Issues to discuss.

Braden remained quiet as he headed into the living room. Allie paused to shut off a few lights, leaving them in the yellow glow of the standing lamp. A wadded up blanket caught her eye before she could sit. She snagged the thing off the lounge chair and held it by two ends. “I know Paige doesn’t hate me, but she sure acts like it sometimes.”

When Braden didn’t respond, she looked up, unnerved to see a quiet grin on his face.

“What?” she asked.

He patted the spot next to him. “Come and sit with me.” His voice was that alluring tone, low and scratchy.

She draped the folded blanket along the chair and sunk into the leather couch, leaving half a cushion between them. A new swarm of nerves rushed through her. The unsettling motion begging her to pace. Instead, she turned her body to face him and then folded her legs, resting her hands in her lap.

Why exactly was she so nervous? Because she was scared that Braden might run, she reminded herself. Perhaps he’d seen and heard enough for one night – enough to know he was wasting his time with her.

She moved her hair from her face, tucked it behind one ear, and pulled in a deep breath of courage. “Braden, if this is too much for you…” She left it there, the emotion attached to her words too much to take.

“Why would you think that?” he asked.

Allie blinked a few times, the view of her hands coming back into focus. At last she lifted her chin, shifting her gaze to Braden. His eyes had been warmed by the light, a hypnotic blend of brown and gold. She could tell that his face was freshly shaven, yet hints of a dark, five-o’clock shadow accented his jaw. If she ran her fingers over the short scruff, would it feel like the
80 grit
sandpaper she’d held in the shop?

“I really enjoyed meeting your girls tonight,” he said. “I thought they were great.”

“Even Paige?”

“You’d already warned me about her.” He chuckled a bit in his throat. “I was prepared to get some real attitude from that one but…” he shook his head, giving Allie a knowing look that put her at ease before he even finished. “I guess you could say I relate to her. I had a similar attitude back in the day. My mom would tell you I was a pain in the butt during my teen years. And I didn’t mean to be. I was just going through things. I was unhappy about the whole adoption thing. Angry with my parents though I had no reason to be. I don’t know, I just had issues to work out, and sadly my folks took the brunt of it for a while.”

Allie wouldn’t have pictured Braden giving his parents a hard time. Not at all. But what he’d said reminded her that Terrance had mentioned it once – the fact that Braden was struggling, not knowing who his real parents were. He’d been on a quest to find them at one point. It made her wonder. “Did you ever find your real parents?” The words slipped off her tongue before she had a chance to consider them.

One corner of his lips quirked up. “No,” he said. “I never did find my biological mother or father. But I came to grips with it. I realized that my parents – the ones who raised me – were the ones that mattered. I’m just glad I figured that out before they passed.”

“I bet they were glad too,” Allie said, resting her shoulder against the couch as she pondered. “Being a parent is a gift. It is. But it’s tough too. Some days it feels like that’s all you are. Like any identity you had before parenthood was shed the moment you became a parent. I swear sometimes I wonder if I still resemble the person I was, or if I’m a different woman entirely.”

He eased into a crooked smile. “You’re in there somewhere.” He rubbed his hands gently over hers. “You’ve just been going through a lot, is all. But uh…the closer you and I get, the more pieces of you I see. Pieces I remember from when we were young.”

She smiled at him in return, knowing just what he meant. She let out a single laugh. “You know, it’s funny, I’ve noticed the same thing.”

He lifted a dark brow. “Oh, yeah?”

She nodded. “Like the Starbursts. You’re still downing those like they’re going out of style. Any candy for that matter. And you always had this way – you’d look at me with your head lowered and give me that exact smile. Usually when you were teasing me about something.”

“Yeah.” He ran the tip of his finger over her hand, tracing a tiny vein on its path toward her knuckle. “I’ve always liked teasing you.” His gaze seemed to move as hers did, away from their hands until their eyes met. A pool of something hot and sweet danced around her heart. She could hardly believe he was real. Braden Fox was there, in her home. On her couch. So handsome, warm, and so very close. Nearly a week had passed since he’d kissed her in his backyard after the picnic, and he hadn’t kissed her again since. Not on the lips anyway. For whatever reason, Braden seemed to reject the gesture as a goodbye sentiment. He would however, always pull her in and kiss her cheek. Tenderly. Gently, before saying goodbye. He’d let his large, masculine hand linger over the small of her back as he did, a move that always sent goosebumps racing along her arms. The smell of his cologne, mingled with fresh hints of pine, lingering far after they’d part.

She could smell it now too. The mere scent of him making her long for his lips on hers. Braden’s palm slid further up the back of her hand until he encircled her wrist.

He leaned in closer.

Allie gulped. Her gaze landing solidly on his wonderfully sculpted lips. Just as her eyes began to close, a blast of music sounded from behind the wall. He paused there, and then backed up. Allie forced her lids to flicker open.

“Are the girls still up?” Braden asked, tilting his head toward the wall.

She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and tell him it didn’t matter. “Yeah. I figured they might be. I’ll just tell her to use headphones.” Allie shifted to move off the couch but Braden stopped her.

“No. I don’t mind,” he said. “She’s got good taste in music, actually.”

Allie nodded. “That’s what Terrance used to say.” She regretted it the minute she’d said it. Who cared about Terrance at a moment like this? Or, a moment like the one they were having a minute ago, before Paige blasted her music.

Braden’s thumb traced down the back of her hand. “Does Paige have a notebook of her art?”

Allie nodded. “I buy her one every year for her birthday. She usually fills them up faster than she gets them. Starts doodling on lined paper, cardboard sometimes, whatever she can get her hands on. This year I bought her a new one early.”

He tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Hmm.”

“What?” Allie asked.

“Just sounded like she was bothered that you don’t display her art.”

“It’s hardly something I could put up in the house,” she said with a laugh. “Really. Just… here. I’ll show you what I mean.” Her eyes ran the length of the bookshelf. The wicker basket on the bottom shelf held Paige’s art supplies. Metal tins holding specialty pencils sat on top, stretchy erasers pressed against them. Allie shuffled the items as she pulled out the hefty, spiral sketchpad. “This is her latest stuff,” she said, nudging up beside him on the couch. She flipped over the cover to reveal the first sketch: a zombie dressed in a suit and tie – a deep gash causing its flesh to hang off half of his face. The next page had a similar drawing, a zombie holding his own eyeball. With an outstretched arm, he was using it to look at himself in his distorted state. Braden laughed out loud.

“Clever,” Braden said. “I like this one.”

She glanced over, surprised as he pulled the book onto his lap, flipped the next page himself. More of the same.

“She’s got a real thing for dead people,” Allie explained. “Zombies, that is. I guess there’s a difference.”

Braden shot her a pointed look. “A big difference, actually.”

Allie shrugged, feeling outnumbered though Paige wasn’t even in the room.

The next drawing portrayed another zombie creature. A girl this time; she was lying stomach-first on a skateboard, a schoolgirl’s plaid skirt blowing in the breeze.

“Whoa, I didn’t even see that at first,” Braden said, running a finger along the bottom of the page. “Her tongue is the skateboard.”

And so it was. Allie hadn’t noticed that either. But it was plain to see. “That’s… pretty cool,” she admitted. “I never noticed that.” A small ache formed in her gut. Perhaps she’d been missing a lot of details like those. Maybe that’s what bothered Paige so much when she’d show Allie her stuff. Sadly all of Paige’s zombie pictures had started to look the same to Allie. Often times Paige didn’t bother showing her at all.

“You know, I think it’d mean a lot to her if you just hung some of this stuff up. Copied it, even, if you want to leave the originals in here.”

The heat in her tummy changed. Turned into a tangled lump of defenses. Allie tried to stifle them as she rose from the couch and crossed the room. “I’ve displayed a bunch of her stuff throughout the house.” She pulled a small tile from the bookshelf and held it up for him. “Paige is the one who painted this,” she announced.

Braden made a scoffing sound. “When she was what, five?”

Allie glanced down at the flower. A messy green stem with a small bud. She checked the date. “Six.” She was losing steam. “And there’s a painted pot in the windowsill she gave to me for Mother’s Day. I’ve never taken it down.” 

Braden nodded, but remained silent as Allie searched for something more to say. “I guess I just thought she was going through a phase and that soon she’d start drawing different things. Living things, maybe.”

“She will,” Braden assured. “And that’ll be a real shame when it happens.”

Allie winced.

“Especially if you never appreciated what she’s doing now.” He shifted in his seat, propped his elbows on his knees and looked at her. “Paige has real talent. And what’s more is she’s got a sense of humor too. One that practically jumps off the page. You don’t want her to start drawing flowers and sunsets, Allie. Anyone can do that. You want her to do things that she’s interested in. Things that show personality as well as talent. That’s the mark of a true artist.”

It took Allie a moment to dissect the strange surge of emotion pulsing through her frame. There Braden sat, defending her daughter’s art while scolding Allie in the process. He actually liked what Paige had drawn. Was helping Allie to see the value in it too. Her heart began to soften and swell. “You really like it?”

He nodded. “Of course I do. Paige could do print art, comic books, videogame design, you name it. She just needs a little encouragement.”

Allie nodded, strolled back to where she’d been sitting, and drew her eyes back to him. “You’re right. She probably does need that,” she agreed. “I’ll frame some.”

Braden gave her a satisfied grin. “Good. If you’d like, I can help you sketch out a custom piece for her. Something that could stand in the corner there and display several sketches at once.”

“Really?” She liked that idea. Loved it, actually. “That is brilliant,” she said. “Yes! I … please. Paige would love that.
I
would love that.” She laughed at the way she was stumbling over her words.

Braden chuckled too. “Then let’s get to work.”

Allie dashed to the office to grab some scratch paper and a clipboard. And for the next solid hour, the two worked on different designs. Each with Paige in mind. By the time they were through, the stand they’d settled on was sure to be a masterpiece.

“I can’t wait to see that in real life now. Standing right in this room,” she said. “And it’s perfect because Paige’s birthday’s coming up.”

“May, right?” Braden confirmed.

Allie nodded. “Right.”

Braden came to a stand and stretched his arms over his head. “We’ll have ‘er done by then. Easy.” He yawned, and Allie couldn’t fathom how he could be sleepy at a time like this. She felt more alive than she had in years. Creating something new and wonderful. The direction she was headed with Paige was something to celebrate all itself. Allie could hardly wait to show Paige the appreciation her art deserved.

Even as Braden took hold of her hand, led her in a slow trail toward the door, new ideas were coming to mind. Inspiration on her jewelry. Whimsical pieces that looked dreamy and magical all at once. Thinner lines with swirls and loops. And hearts too. Allie hadn’t fashioned a whole lot of hearts in her line, but suddenly a list of designs were coming to her.

“Well,” she said, at the doorway. “Thank you so very much for tonight.”