Prentice tilted his chin up slightly and gave Mikey a moment to compose himself before he commented, “I’m guessing we passed inspection.”
“You all get gold stars,” Mikey replied and Prentice grinned.
Then Prentice’s eyes went to the door and he asked, “Have you ever seen her like that?”
Mikey looked behind him toward the door and answered, “Yes, often, at school.” He turned back around. “After she lost you, when she was vulnerable and he could beat her down, rarely.”
Prentice’s jaw grew tight.
“Prentice,” Mikey said softly, “that was then, this is now. Let it go.”
Prentice tilted his chin again but this time it was more of a jerk.
Mikey’s voice was still gentle when he stated, “Annie tells me she’s not self-harming anymore.”
Prentice’s eyes narrowed. “You knew about that?”
Mikey nodded. “Both Annie and I talked to her. She was seeing a doctor.”
The color went out of Prentice’s face. “She’s not seeing a doctor now.”
“She’s also living thousands of miles away from her abusive father with whom she used to live in the same city and, regardless of her age, he was unrelenting in his attention. And she doesn’t have photographers breathing down her neck because she’s not attending all the soirees and high-brow events her detestable ex-husband and then her despicable father demanded she appear at which, by the way, she loathed. Instead, she’s living in a beautiful house with the only man she’s ever loved, helping him raise his children. So,” Mikey threw out his hand absently, “I’m no psychologist, but I’m guessing she doesn’t need a doctor anymore.”
Prentice wasn’t convinced. “Life has a way of twisting and turning.”
“Yes,” Mikey agreed. “It does. And usually one can go with the flow. But when one finds they can’t, they need a strong, solid anchor.” He nodded to Prentice. “You aren’t made of iron but I think you’ll do.”
Prentice didn’t reply then again, he didn’t need to. He was Bella’s anchor and they both knew it.
That was why Mikey smiled before he clapped and exclaimed, “All right! I need coffee and you need to get to a meeting.”
“I’ll bring in your bags,” Prentice offered.
“I’m g*y, not disabled.” Mikey smiled through his refusal. “Go to your meeting.” When Prentice didn’t move, Mikey started waving at the door, saying, “Shoo, shoo.”
Prentice shook his head but slapped Mikey on the shoulder.
“Good to have you back, mate,” he mumbled before he strode to the door, grabbed his coat off a hook, gave Mikey a departing nod and left.
Mikey stared at the door, the tears he wouldn’t allow himself to shed earlier pooled in his eyes and he whispered, “Have a good day at work, Superman.”
Then Fiona watched as he turned to the coffee.
* * * * *
“Bella, no. What you’re saying is you want four different colors of cream,” Mikey declared in a disgusted tone and Fiona agreed with him.
You need blue, Prentice LOVES blue, Fiona screamed.
Bella hesitated, looking mystified and maybe a little scared.
She glanced at Fern and asked, “Can we see that blue swatch again?”
Bella, Mikey, Annie and, of course, Fiona were in Fern Goodacre’s little shop. Fern sold candles, candleholders, pretty, unusual jewelry made by locals, frames, artsy knick knacks and other gift items. Fern also had a small side business in interior design that she ran from the back room of her shop.
A lot of local folk said Fern was really good but Fiona was not the type of lass who would hire an interior decorator so she didn’t know. But Janice MacHolm used Fern to decorate her sitting room and Fiona always thought it was really lovely.
They were all crammed in the back room of the shop and Annie and Mikey (and, of course, Fiona) were also cramming their ideas into Bella’s head.
Which might have been a wee bit out of line but, good God, the woman had picked four different colors of cream!
“Can I just say,” Fern started, glancing at Mikey and Annie, “I actually like the cream on cream.”
“What?” Mikey cried, openly aghast.
“See, this has a little salmon,” Fern said, separating swatches on the table they were sitting around, “this a little blue, this a little more blue and that one, well, that one’s just cream.”
Annie tilted her head to the side and pointed. “Well, that one is blue and that one is kind of blue but the rest just look like cream to me.”
Fern was gazing at the swatches and her eyes went funny. “Actually, I’m thinking it would be kind of brilliant, subtle, fresh, clean, bright but with hints of color making it warm and interesting.” She looked at Bella and grinned. “I really like it.”
“You do?” Bella asked quietly.
“Aye. I could work with this, definitely,” Fern replied.
“Really?” Bella breathed.
“Let me put some ideas together,” Fern offered. “I’ll work on it tonight, come over to see the space tomorrow and we’ll talk more.”
“I’d like that,” Bella smiled.
“But it’s all cream!” Mikey exclaimed.
Bella bit her lip and her eyes slid away, clearly tentative and worried.
Fiona watched Bella. She hadn’t seen that look from Bella in awhile.
This decorating business was for some reason causing her anxiety so Fiona decided to lay off and she also decided to get Mikey, who was the naysaying ringleader, to do the same.
Shut it, mate, she shouted at Bella’s friend.
“Seriously, girlie-girl, those rooms are huge filled with windows, you can so go bold,” Mikey, clearly not like his friend and unable to hear voices from beyond the grave, declared.
“Bold,” Bella whispered and looked at Mikey. “Fiona was good with bold, the rest of the house –”
Mikey paled at her words, having been informed of why they were on their errand, and he turned to Fern instantly. “Cream. Cream is good. Work with the cream.”
“No,” Bella said, her gaze had slid beyond Fern and she got up, scooted around the small space and pulled out a roll of peacock blue fabric. She turned to her audience and said, “This is gorgeous.”
“I love that,” Fern said, getting up to join her and touching the fabric. “No one’s ever used it and I’ve always wondered why because I think it’s lush.”