Things We Never Say (3 page)

Suzanne turned away. She was glad she’d left. She was glad he didn’t have power over her any more.

When the door to the art gallery in Geary Street opened, Abbey Andersen immediately switched her computer screen from the game of solitaire she was playing (and losing) to the generic one which carried the gallery’s logo. But when she looked up and saw the person who’d walked in, her eyes widened in surprise.

‘Pete,’ she said. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘Don’t sound so pleased to see me.’ Pete Caruso, a tall, balding man in his early fifties, walked past the paintings hanging on the walls without looking at them and sat on the edge of the enormous glass table that Abbey was using as a desk.

‘You don’t often drop by. And I’m
delighted
to see you,’ she added hastily. ‘As my father figure you’re always welcome. But as a customer …’ her eyes twinkled, ‘you’re way down the pecking order!’

‘I am, am I?’ Pete took a moment to study the art that he’d just ignored and then looked at her. ‘Anything you recommend?’

‘There’s always this,’ said Abbey as she stood up and reached behind her desk. She selected a framed painting which had been leaning against the wall. ‘He’s a new artist, going to be huge.’

Pete studied the painting. ‘It’s a blue dot on a pink background,’ he said finally.

‘Got it in one.’

‘So why would I buy that?’

‘Because you can look at it as a blue dot on a pink background,’ said Abbey. ‘Or you can interpret it as how one small thing can affect something much greater.’

‘You’re jerking my chain.’ Pete scratched his head as he stared at the painting.

Abbey grinned. ‘Slightly. But it’s true that he’s becoming more popular, and it’s a good price.’

‘How much?’

‘A thousand dollars,’ Abbey told him.

‘That’s a joke, right?’

‘Not at all. And with the discount I can give you, it’s yours for nine hundred.’

‘I didn’t come in here to buy a painting,’ said Pete.

‘But you will one day.’

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Though not blue dots on pink backgrounds. You know me, honey, I like proper pictures.’

‘Oh, Pete.’ Abbey shook her head in mock despair. ‘I’m doing my best to drag you into the twenty-first century, but you’re not making it easy.’

‘I know what I like,’ said Pete stubbornly. ‘Anyway, if I wanted abstract, I’d go for something with more bite. Speaking of bites,’ he added. ‘The real reason I dropped by was to ask you if you wanted to have lunch with me.’

Abbey looked disappointed. ‘I’m sorry, Pete. I can’t, I’ve got to work.’

‘Isn’t today your half-day?’

‘It is,’ said Abbey. ‘From the gallery. But I’m due at the salon as soon as I finish up here.’

Pete frowned. ‘I thought you were giving up that job.’

‘And why would I do that?’ asked Abbey. ‘I like it and I make more money there than I ever could here. There aren’t any tips at the gallery, you know.’

‘Don’t you get a nice bonus if you sell a painting?’

‘Hmm. Theoretically. But I don’t sell that many paintings. I’m only part-time, after all.’

‘How much did you say that silly blue dot was?’ Pete reached into his jacket and took his wallet out of his top pocket. He extracted an AmEx card and handed it to her.

Abbey smiled at him. ‘That’s sweet of you, Pete. But I can’t let you buy a painting you don’t want or like just so’s I make some commission.’

‘You were perfectly prepared to hard-sell it to me a few minutes ago,’ protested Pete.

‘That was when I thought you might buy it as an investment,’ she said.

‘Look at it as an investment in your future,’ said Pete. ‘And in my lunch.’

‘A damn pricey lunch!’ Abbey laughed. ‘Honestly, I can’t let you do this. And I can’t bunk off no matter what. I have clients waiting for me at the salon. Why don’t we meet later this evening?’

‘I’m busy until around nine thirty. Is that too late for you?’

‘Of course not,’ said Abbey. ‘We can grab a coffee.’

‘Great.’

‘Is there something wrong?’ Abbey looked suddenly anxious. ‘Some reason you want to see me?’

‘I like chewing the fat with you,’ said Pete. ‘I always have.’

‘You’ve got to give up that full-fat lifestyle,’ she joked. ‘Meet you at our usual.’

Pete nodded. ‘See you later, honey.’

‘See you later, Pete,’ said Abbey.

She looked after him as he walked out the door. There was still an anxious expression in her eyes.

An hour later, she was at the much smaller table in the beauty salon where she worked three days a week. Unlike the gallery, which was edgy and modern, the salon on Valencia Street was warm and welcoming. Abbey always felt relaxed when she arrived there, and she enjoyed working with Charlene and Bella a lot more than she did with Nerissa, the manager of the gallery. She could have a laugh and a joke with the other two nail technicians, whereas with Nerissa she continually felt on her guard, as though the older woman was waiting for her to make a mistake. She knew that at twenty, she had a lot to learn. She wasn’t stupid or overconfident. But she couldn’t help thinking that the salon was a friendlier place to be, and she wondered if her heart was really in the world of art as she’d once believed.

‘Hey, Abbey.’ Charlene, five years older and the most experienced of them all, sat down in front of her and began to rearrange some of the bottles on the table.

‘You leave my stuff alone, Mizz Taite,’ said Abbey. ‘I know you, you’re trying to nick that bottle of Absolute Scarlet.’

‘Totally not,’ said Charlene. ‘I’ve a bit of news for you.’

‘Which is?’ Abbey replaced the bottles of varnish in the order she preferred.

‘I’m leaving.’

‘What!’ Abbey was surprised. She’d thought that Charlene enjoyed working at Mariposa as much as she did. The other girl had never said anything about wanting to leave.

‘Tripp’s got a job offer on the East Coast,’ Charlene said. ‘He asked me to go with him.’

‘No way!’ Abbey’s expression was a mixture of delight and hesitation. ‘You want to go? Well, sure you do. You’re going!’

‘It’ll be fun,’ said Charlene. ‘Besides …’ She extended her hand to show Abbey the small solitaire diamond on her engagement finger.

‘Oh, wow!’ exclaimed Abbey. ‘You’re properly engaged! That’s wonderful. Congratulations.’

‘Thank you,’ said Charlene.

‘Were you expecting this?’ demanded Abbey. ‘Did you plan it? Because you never said a word.’

‘We talked,’ admitted Charlene. ‘But it was “one day in the future” sort of talk. When he got the job offer, though, and wanted me to come, he said that he couldn’t ask me to give up my job here without offering me something better. And then he produced the ring.’

‘How cool.’ Abbey sighed. ‘He’s such a romantic.’

‘He is a bit,’ agreed Charlene. ‘And you know, even though I always wanted a circle of diamonds for my engagement ring, this is perfect.’

‘It sure is,’ said Abbey. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

‘I’m pretty damned happy myself,’ agreed Charlene. ‘Anyway, we’re going for drinks tomorrow night to celebrate. You OK with that?’

‘Sure am.’

‘One other thing.’ Charlene looked directly at her. ‘This is an opportunity for you.’

‘For me?’

‘Nail work is one of the most popular things we do here. Right now, I’m the only full-time technician. Selina will want either you or Bella to take over. You’re exceptional at this, Abbey. It should be you.’

Abbey glanced towards the table where Bella usually sat. She wasn’t working this afternoon.

‘Bella’s as good as me,’ she protested. ‘Besides, nails are her full-time job. OK, she’s only part-time here, but she works in that hotel salon too.’

‘Thing is, she’s not as good as you,’ said Charlene. ‘You’ve a talent for nails, Abbey. You know you do.’

‘I’m not a nail person,’ Abbey told her. ‘I’m an art person. Admittedly the gallery can be a bit of a drag sometimes, but …’

‘You say that all the time,’ said Charlene. ‘And you also say you prefer working here. So why not grab the chance?’

‘Well, because …’ Abbey looked thoughtful. Suddenly she didn’t know what the
because
was. It wasn’t the money. It wasn’t the atmosphere. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy doing nails.

It’s because Mom wouldn’t approve, she thought suddenly. Nor would Pete. He’s convinced that I’m destined for great things in the art world, and Mom believes that beauty is frivolous and silly.

‘We’ll see.’ She smiled uncertainly at Charlene. ‘Selina might prefer Bella.’

‘You’re the best,’ said Charlene obstinately. ‘And Selina always wants the best.’

‘I must be the best,’ said Abbey to Pete later that evening as they sat in their favourite coffee and doughnut place overlooking the bay. ‘Because Selina offered me the job.’

She’d been surprised. She’d thought that Selina would turn the full-time post into a competition between her and Bella, a prize for them to fight over, but before the salon had closed for the evening, Selina had called her into her office and made her the offer. Abbey was glad that Charlene had given her a heads-up, because otherwise she would have been utterly speechless. As it was, she still told Selina that she needed to think it over. The salon owner’s response was that she had forty-eight hours to make up her mind.

‘You’re not going to take it, though.’ Pete wiped his sticky fingers on a napkin. ‘You’re not a nail woman.’

‘Nail technician,’ Abbey corrected him. ‘And yes, I am.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Pete. ‘You’re an artist.’

‘I studied art,’ Abbey corrected him. ‘Doesn’t make me an artist. Not one little bit.’

‘Abbey, sweetheart, you can’t spend your day doing rich women’s nails.’

‘First of all, they’re not rich women,’ said Abbey. ‘Everyone gets their nails done these days. It’s big business and you should know that. Secondly, my appointment book is always full, so I can easily spend all day doing it.’

‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’ Pete’s brow darkened. ‘You’re wasting your talent.’

‘Oh, Pete, I wish I had the sort of talent you’re talking about to waste,’ said Abbey. ‘I really do. But the truth is, I’m only a competent artist, and even if I was beyond brilliant, it doesn’t guarantee I’d sell any paintings. You see way better people than me struggling.’

‘You’ve got to have belief,’ said Pete. ‘What have I always told you?’

‘I do have belief,’ Abbey insisted. ‘But I’m also realistic. Someone in my family has to be.’

Pete’s expression softened as he looked at her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t trying to get at you. You’re one of the most realistic people I know. One of the best, too.’

‘And I want the best for you,’ said Pete.

‘I know you do,’ Abbey said. ‘You’ve always only wanted the best. For me and for Mom too, even though we don’t deserve you.’

‘Hey, don’t try to make me into the good guy,’ Pete warned her. ‘I’m not that great.’

‘You are to me.’ Abbey’s voice wobbled. ‘You’ve been … I couldn’t ask for a more supportive person in my corner. And the thing is, you don’t have to be. There’s nothing keeping us together. No reason for you to care.’

‘Now you’re being silly,’ said Pete. ‘There’s every reason for me to care. I’ve known you for the best part of seven years. I’ve watched you turn from a scrawny kid into a stunning woman …’

‘Enough already.’ She held up her hands. ‘Stunning is pushing it.’

‘You
are
stunning,’ protested Pete.

‘I work in a beauty salon, I know all about stunning,’ said Abbey. ‘The best we can say about me is that I deal well with what I’ve got.’

‘You don’t need to ramp it up like some girls,’ said Pete. ‘Bottom line is that you’re both smart and pretty and you can do a lot with your life.’

‘But what if I don’t want to? What if all I want is to be happy?’

‘There’s more to life than being happy,’ said Pete.

‘So speaks a man whose life is his career,’ teased Abbey. ‘Seriously, Pete – isn’t it all about happiness? Isn’t that what I should have learned from Mom?’

‘I don’t think happiness is her motivating force either,’ said Pete.

‘That’s probably true,’ Abbey agreed. ‘Thing is, I spend lots of my time hoping that she’s happy with the choices she’s made. Which I guess is silly of me.’

‘We all want our nearest and dearest to be happy,’ said Pete. ‘And the constitution affirms our inalienable right to pursue it. It just seems to me that happiness is a by-product of other things. Of achievement mainly.’

‘You’re becoming quite the philosopher,’ said Abbey. ‘Why am I surrounded by people who look for the meaning of life when all I care about is making the rent?’

Pete smiled. ‘You care about a lot more than that.’

‘Hmm,’ said Abbey. ‘You’d be surprised. Anyway, whether we’re happy or not, the important thing is that we’re getting there. Which I think I will with this whole nail business.’

‘If that’s what you want, you’ve got to go for it,’ said Pete.

‘I’ve two days to make a decision,’ Abbey said. ‘I won’t rush into it. Then if it all goes pear-shaped, I can only blame myself.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Pete.

They sat in silence for a moment while Abbey idly stirred her coffee. Then she looked questioningly at Pete.

‘D’you think she’ll stick it out?’ she asked.

‘Your mom?’

‘Who else?’

‘I don’t know,’ replied Pete. ‘She seems pretty determined so far.’

‘When you came into the gallery, I thought for a nanosecond that you were going to say that she’d called you. That she was coming home.’

Pete looked at her sympathetically. ‘Sorry.’

‘Oh well.’ Abbey sighed. ‘I suppose that’s a good thing really. But I can’t help wondering what happens if she changes her mind.’

‘She’ll leave,’ said Pete.

‘I can’t imagine it would be easy to just up sticks like that,’ Abbey said. ‘But even if it is, even if they say “so long, nice to know you”, how will she feel about that? And how could she possibly cope after it?’

‘Your mom is one of the best copers I know,’ said Pete. ‘How many other women would have travelled across Latin America with a small kid like she did? If she chooses to leave, she’ll be fine. Besides, she’ll always have those nursing skills. And if the worst comes to the worst – or the best comes to the best, depending on your point of view – we’ll be here to support her.’