Chapter 7 #2
Fiona unlocked and pushed open her door, kicking off her shoes and dumping her tote bag on the counter to the right side of the door.
The kitchen was U-shaped. A large window above the sink faced the backyard.
The fridge took up most of the back wall, while the stove was against the wall separating the kitchen from the living area.
There was an abundance of cabinets and countertops, which ended in a peninsula that further divided the kitchen from the dining area.
Directly in front of the door was a square bar-height table with four tall chairs, all in dark wood.
A traditional dining room table with lower chairs would have been easier, but the petite woman had been drawn to the less formal table, bare except for a glass bowl filled with apples.
Ignoring her shoes for the moment, Fiona looked over the living room for anything out of place.
Just past the dining table stood a brick fireplace with an exposed wooden mantel holding three colorful vases.
Above it, a large mirror reflected the light coming in from the front window.
Below the window stood a denim-covered couch with bright yellow throw pillows.
Kitty corner to the couch sat a comfortable armchair.
A large rectangular ottoman stood before the couch.
Upholstered in the same cheery yellow check as the chair, it stored afghans and extra pillows.
Currently, the flooring was bare wood. Fiona was contemplating area rugs but for now, was happy with the cool wood against her bare feet.
Looking at her watch, she dismissed her decorating concerns and hustled to the bedroom to change.
She stepped out of her navy pencil skirt and tossed it over the back of an armchair.
Originally intended for a comfortable reading space, it was now the temporary repository for her wardrobe until she got around to hanging things up.
The light blue silk blouse followed suit, and she pulled a sleeveless, bright pink polka-dot sundress out of the closet.
Turning to the en suite bathroom, she loosened the clips holding her hair in place.
She shook out the heavy, dark mass, running her fingers over her scalp and sighing.
Deciding it was too hot to leave it down, she found a hair tie and piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun.
She nodded at her reflection in the mirror.
Joseph was her brother and wouldn’t care what her hair and makeup looked like. Turning back to the bedroom, she smoothed down the soft blue paisley bedspread and hung up her clothes. A knock sounded, and she made her way back to the front door.
Joseph’s smiling face was framed in the glass of the French doors.
In one hand, he held a six-pack of a local microbrew, in the other a bouquet of flowers, grocery store flowers for sure, but flowers nevertheless.
Returning his smile as she opened the door, she hadn’t realized how much she was looking forward to connecting with her big brother.
“Thanks.” She took the flowers and beer, placing them on the counter. “I made pho and banh mi yesterday. How does that sound?”
“Works for me. Do I get a tour before we eat?” Joseph, dressed in slacks and a pale pink button-down shirt with thin blue stripes, rolled up his sleeves and glanced around the apartment.
“Sure.” Fiona twisted her fingers as she led him past the table and into the living room.
The small space was a huge contrast to the house she’d lived in with Eddie.
He had decided on everything from the wall paint to the furniture to the artwork to the area rugs.
It had been heavy, ostentatious, and impersonal.
Fiona hated it. She’d tried to provide input, but he overrode her.
While her parents bought the house for them, his parents gave them the money for the furniture.
Eddie reasoned that the money came from his parents, so the furnishing choices would be his as well.
It wasn’t the first argument she lost to Eddie, nor was it the last.
“This is so you!” Joseph’s words dragged Fiona back to the present. “It’s bright, cheerful, and comfortable.” He sat on the couch, running his hands over the fabric, then leaned forward, opened the ottoman, and pulled out a crocheted afghan. “You still have this?”
Fiona snatched back the old afghan, made with misshapen granny squares in clashing colors. “Yes. Ba Ngoai helped me make it. I was ten. What do you expect from a first attempt?” She folded it carefully and placed it back into the ottoman, then glared at her brother.
“It’s ugly as sin. Good thing you keep it in there.” He stood and bumped her shoulder with his own, his smile taking the sting out of his words. “Let’s see the rest of the place.”
She led him down the hall, past a bathroom, showed off her home office, then stood in the doorway while he looked over the bedroom.
“Really nice. It looks like you’ve settled in.” Following her back to the kitchen, he snagged a beer and leaned against the peninsula. “Are you happy?”
Fiona shot him a quick glance before opening the fridge to retrieve the Okanagan Porch Banger wine.
His usual smile was replaced by a look of concern.
She nodded. “Yeah. I feel like…like I can finally relax. My life is my own. Does that make sense?” She put the wine on the counter and opened a cupboard to get a glass.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should have?—”
“Don’t go there. I look at it as a learning experience—crappy as it was—but now I know what I do and don’t want in a relationship.”
Sipping his beer, Joseph’s eyebrows rose. “Relationship? Are you starting to date?”
She snorted. “The ink is barely dry on my divorce papers. And I am not interested in dating.” Tomas’s image leaped into her mind.
He wouldn’t date. He would court with a single-minded intensity, seeking something more permanent than seduction.
While permanent didn’t interest her, being the focus of his attention intrigued her.
Immediately, she busied herself in the cool fridge, chasing away thoughts that wouldn’t lead anywhere. Not wanting further scrutiny, she deflected. “How’s work going?”
Joseph managed the extensive properties of Han Family Holdings.
He had four employees working under him, handling rentals, fielding property concerns, and working with the city.
He was a dutiful son, working without complaint, but Fiona knew he would rather use his law degree for something else.
She wasn’t sure what because he’d never said anything, but she sensed his dissatisfaction with the company business.
Shrugging, he looked out the kitchen window. “It’s fine. Although, have you heard Mom’s newest idea for her legacy?” At Fiona’s head shake, he continued. “A memorial garden and an outdoor chapel beside the church.”
“What? This is Washington. Who wants to attend a service in the rain?” The Han family were good Methodists.
Both Joseph and Fiona attended church regularly while living at home.
Now, Fiona attended once a month or so to appease their mother.
She had no problem with her mother leaving money to the church, assuming it would be used for a worthy cause.
A look of displeasure crossed Joseph’s face. “I don’t understand it, either. There are far better things the church could do.”
“Keeney United Methodist has a new pastor. Do you think he’s sweet-talking Mother?”
“Possibly. I’ll talk to her and see if I can convince her to do something more worthwhile.”
Fiona pulled bowls and plates out of the cupboard. “Oh, Mother thinks you’re up to something.”
Joseph bobbled his beer. “What?”
“What is it? You look guilty.”
“It’s nothing I want the family to know about.”
“Are you doing something illegal?”
“God, no!” He propped his hands on his hips and blew out a sigh. “I just want to keep this to myself for a while.”
“Okay….” She busied herself serving up the soup. Was he dating someone? Joseph kept his private life very private. She wasn’t even sure if he preferred men or women. She glanced up at her handsome brother and smiled. “Are you hungry?”
Joseph nodded at the pot of soup. “Absolutely.”