Chapter 16 #2
“Do you think I’m making a mistake?” Natalie ran her fingers over the lace. She wasn’t referring only to the purchases, but the man she wanted to knock off his feet.
“How did you feel when you tried it on?” Celeste asked. “Good? Empowered? Or…”
“Good.” She brightened, giving the cami a little shake. “Like a sexy princess.”
“Then that’s never a mistake.”
She swatted her oldest sister’s shoulder. “You know that wasn’t all that I meant.” She dropped to the edge of the bed. “Roni’s right. I’m probably falling in love with him.”
“Probably?” Roni snorted.
“Stop,” she pleaded. It wasn’t as if they didn’t have good reason to hassle her, but falling for Trent left her feeling fragile.
As if the slightest misstep would shatter her into a billion pieces and she’d never find them all.
Sure, she pulled random bits of the world together to create new and beautiful artwork.
She just wasn’t sure that would translate to her personal life.
Was spending more time with him the smart move or just delaying an inevitable heartache?
“What if I’m just screwing up again? Maybe I have an addictive personality.”
Roni snorted again and Celeste rolled her eyes. “No way.” Celeste carefully folded the lingerie and tucked it back into the tote. “Just talk to us.”
“Fine.” Why argue? She actually wanted their input.
Valued their opinions. Turning toward the window, she watched the coils of Spanish moss swaying in a light breeze.
“But not in here.” It was too personal. Too reminiscent of being the baby sister with her head in the clouds about her latest crush during their school years.
She shooed them out of her room and back to the kitchen.
“This whole situation should be easy, but it’s not,” she admitted. “If I’m not addicted to the excitement, then maybe it’s infatuation. But whatever logical label I try to put on it, my feelings won’t settle. It’s bigger than attraction or chemistry.”
“Never thought I’d see you upset about love,” Roni noted.
Natalie forced a smile, afraid her cheeks might crack from the effort. “You decided to make me pick it apart. I was going to enjoy sister night.” She waved her hands as if she was erasing a whiteboard. “I will enjoy sister night.”
“Mm-hm.” Veronica toasted her with a cracker. “Enjoy it right up until you sneak out.”
“There’s no sneaking now. Besides, you can’t be too upset. It’s not like I’m shirking breakfast duty.”
That was always Celeste’s role. No matter how late they stayed up, Celeste was always the first one awake, forever cheerful, and happy to provide a hot and hearty breakfast. Natalie suspected the habit began during her years as an Army wife and was reinforced by the intense caregiving in their mother’s last year of life.
“Do you ever sleep in?” she asked Celeste abruptly.
“What? Of course.” She fussed with the charcuterie board. “We should start the movie.”
“My week to choose,” Veronica said. “And it will be a four-hour epic historical feature.”
Natalie didn’t take the bait. “I’d expect nothing less. As long as we fast-forward through the first half hour and we don’t pause the movie for bathroom breaks.”
“A woman with priorities.” Celeste nodded her approval and they all laughed. “If we’re on the clock, everyone grab your favorite beverage and let’s go,” she said. “I’ve got the platter.”
“Who’s drinking what?” Roni opened the fridge.
“The porter for me, please,” Celeste replied.
Roni pulled out the appropriate can of beer for their oldest sister. “I’ll do the October ale,” Nat said, pouring the porter into a glass for Celeste.
Once they settled into their favorite spots on the sectional, Roni cued up a movie—a lighthearted romantic action flick they all enjoyed. Natalie fixed herself a plate and tried to stay present in the moment.
But her thoughts didn’t cooperate. Swirling over what-ifs and should-dos, she was dangerously close to brooding and that wasn’t how she wanted girl-night to go. “One thing first,” she said as the title sequence rolled.
She could tell by their expressions that her sisters had been expecting the interruption. How did they do that, when she hadn’t known she needed to vent? Chalking it up to the magic of sisterhood, she went with it. “Do y’all think I’m falling in love with him because he’s just passing through?”
“There it is,” Roni said, raising her glass to salute Celeste.
“Come on.” Natalie felt dangerously close to whining. There had been quite a bit of trauma around her first husband. With a decade of recovery time, she usually counted herself over it. Or over the worst of it anyway. And then there were moments like this.
“You didn’t fall for Jackson when he was trolling around town a few weeks ago,” Celeste reminded her.
Nat perked up. “True.”
Roni sipped her beer. “The thing is, Nat, you love like most people breathe. Hold on. Hear me out,” she added as Natalie bristled. “I’m giving you a compliment.”
“She’s right,” Celeste chimed in. “Love is easy for you. You pour it into your artwork. You pour it into your friendships, your students, the community. You pour it into us. You just pour and pour and pour and it’s awesome and wonderful and we’re all so lucky to have you.”
Natalie stared at them, stunned into silence—a rare occurrence. A wealth of emotion wound around her heart, climbed up into her throat, and sat there. “Where are you going with this?” she managed.
“All those different ways you give are levels and types of love. It’s like breathing,” Roni reiterated.
“There are friends you love lightly and almost without thinking, right? The easy, automatic inhale and exhale. And like breathwork, you have other loving relationships on a deeper level. Those need more focus and intention. Sometimes, through effort or exercise, you breathe deeper still. That’s not an all-the-time, easy thing.
It’s a special circumstance, but it’s all breathing. ”
A correlation Nat never would’ve found on her own. She popped up and wrapped her sister in a big hug, basically underscoring Roni’s entire point. “Thanks.” She blinked back tears as she returned to her seat.
“So are you concerned about making a mistake?” Celeste asked. “Jackson was a total dick, but you know not all men are like him.”
“Thank heaven for small favors,” Nat murmured. “Yes, I know the old mistake is part of this skittish feeling.”
Jackson had fooled her so completely. He’d taken advantage of the way she threw herself at life.
And though she was loath to entertain the thought, her trepidation was also tied to their dad.
She still resented how he’d run away and left them all to flounder through their mother’s death without him.
They could’ve helped each other learn to be a family without Mom.
But no. Dr. Hargrave’s need for space trumped everything else.
Ugh. How annoyingly typical for a youngest daughter to have daddy issues. She cleared her throat. At some point she’d come to terms with all of that. Not today.
“Okay, then. What if I’m only feeling all this for Trent because he’s the safe option?
” There, now the big worry was out where they could help her dissect it.
“Since he’s temporary. It’s okay to indulge deep feelings without getting smothered.
” She flicked her fingers. “Or whatever fits Veronica’s analogy. ”
“But is he temporary?” Celeste asked. “You told us he’d visited Brookwell before.”
“As part of this ongoing case. His job takes him all over.”
She’d almost tripped up and told them who he was looking for on the island.
They knew something was up, due to the folks keeping an eye on the house, but Trent had asked her to keep details to herself, even though she trusted her sisters with everything.
Including all of these inconvenient feelings.
“Huh.” Roni tipped her head to the side. “Remind me what part of your job anchors you here? If he travels, you could go with him. You always find a way to create things wherever you are.”
She sniffed. “I’m not exactly a mobile artist.” Annoyed—mostly with herself—she went for the jugular. “Just think what a clutter-pit this place would be if the gallery hadn’t made room for me.”
On cue, Roni hurled a few insults at her and she lobbed more right back until Celeste had to intervene. Enormously pleased with herself for restoring the sister-balance, she snuggled in to watch the movie, counting the minutes until she could dash over to the Hideaway and into Trent’s arms.