“You’re going to be working together for a long time. Those sweat-equity hours don’t fly by as quickly as some people think. It’s a lot of time and effort, and if you’re going to be working with Steve, then you should at least make an attempt to try to get along, don’t you think?”
This was quite a speech for Shelly. The other woman was shy and quiet, but she’d opened up a little bit more over the last couple days. Cassie felt that she had at least one ally.
“Steve is one of those people who takes awhile to warm to someone,” Shelly added, returning to the dining room and resuming painting.
“You mean he actually has a warm side?” Cassie mumbled sarcastically.
“Both George and I were unsure when we first met him,” Shelly explained, peeking around the corner.
Cassie had the feeling her newfound friend was exaggerating. “He was like this with both of you?”
Shelly hesitated.
Cassie thought so. “Not really,” she answered on Shelly’s behalf, returning to her own painting.
“It took him awhile to warm to us, too. It’s like he’s hiding inside a fort or something and won’t come out until he’s sure it’s safe. George and I think he’s really great now. Give him a chance, Cassie.”
“Okay, I’ll give it another try,” she said, taking Shelly’s words to heart, although she didn’t hold out much hope.
In a gesture toward peace, Cassie switched paintbrushes and discovered Steve was right. The bigger brush spread the paint just as smoothly as the smaller one and covered twice the area. Her stubbornness, complicated by pride, had cost her a lot of extra work.
She waited until George and Shelly were ready to leave before she approached Steve. “I’ll be right behind you,” Cassie told Shelly. “Tell Amiee I’ll be there in five minutes, okay? And if you’ve got a few extra minutes I’ll cut your hair for you.”
Shelly’s eyes widened with appreciation. “You will?”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Cassie felt like she owed the other woman for giving Amiee someplace to go. It looked like the two girls were going to be fast friends.
“Are you going to talk to Steve?” Shelly asked, lowering her voice.
“I’m going to try,” she responded, in the same low tones.
The other woman offered her an encouraging smile. “Good luck.”
Cassie was fairly certain she was going to need it.
George and Shelly drove off and Steve was picking up the last of his tools when Cassie approached him.
He pretended not to notice her until she said his name. “Steve.”
Turning around, he looked at her. His face was blank, giving her no indication of his feelings.
“Do you have a minute?”
He didn’t answer but waited.
“I changed brushes the way you suggested and you were right. The painting did go faster.”
It would be a whole lot easier if he’d smile or give some indication that he appreciated the effort it took for her to admit this. It looked like he wasn’t willing to give an inch.
“I think it would make for a better working atmosphere if the two of us could get along.”
He acted as if he didn’t know what she was talking about. “I don’t have a problem with you. Show up on time, do the work, and we’ll get along just fine.”
Cassie wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. Well, she’d tried. She’d given it her best shot. “Just FYI, I don’t have a problem with you, either.”
“Good. Glad we’ve got that settled. See you next week.”
Cassie sincerely hoped matters between them would even out. She’d do as Shelly suggested, but she had the distinct feeling that next week, and all the weeks that followed, nothing was going to change.
Chapter 7
A day with her best friend was a rare treat for Nichole Patterson. With a one-year-old underfoot, she was on duty 24/7. She needed this break and lunch out with Laurie, her BFF from college. A day for herself was the perfect antidote to the new-mother blahs.
“Have a great day,” Jake told her, as he kissed her on his way out the door to work. As a salesman for a growing Willamette Valley winery, he often worked long hours. They were blessed that Nichole could stay at home with their son.
Nichole stood in the doorway and watched as her husband backed the car out of the garage. Jake paused halfway down the driveway, rolled down his window, and called out, “What time will you be home?”
“I won’t be too late. Five at the absolute latest. That okay?” She felt a bit silly asking her husband such a question.
His smile was warm. “Honey, of course, and buy yourself a pair of those fancy jeans you saw online.”
“Jake—”
“You deserve them,” he said, cutting off her protest. “Be sure and thank Mom for me.”
“I’ll buy her something for watching Owen.”
“No need. Mom loves it that you asked her to babysit.”
It was also a blessing that Jake’s parents lived close enough to watch their only grandchild on the rare occasions when Nichole and Jake went out. Unlike some of her friends, Nichole got along famously with Leanne, her mother-in-law. Having Jake’s family nearby was especially important, seeing that both her parents had passed. It hurt to think that her parents would never know Owen.
Nichole met Laurie at Nordstrom at ten just when the department store was opening. They linked arms, excited to see each other. “I feel like we’re teenagers again, skipping school,” Laurie said.
Nichole understood—she felt the same way. It had been at least a year, since before Owen was born, that she’d taken an entire day to herself.
At one time Nichole had done all her school shopping with her two older sisters. Her parents had given her a budget of a hundred dollars for the school year. Her sisters’ clothing allowance was slightly higher, based on the idea that she had hand-me-downs and they didn’t.
Their mother wasn’t a shopper. In fact, Nichole could remember only a handful of times that she’d gone to the mall just north of town with her mother. Mom had seemed relieved when Karen was old enough to drive so she wouldn’t have to take her three daughters school shopping.
For weeks in advance of August, Nichole and Cassie read through fashion magazines and department-store fliers, making lists of what they wanted to buy, where, and at what price. Cassie was great when it came to accessorizing. She could do amazing things with a scarf, changing the look of an entire outfit. Karen was much better with makeup. Although it’d been more years now than she could remember, Nichole missed those days, missed those special times with her sisters.
School shopping was always the best. It went without saying that whatever they got would need to last them. Karen and Cassie claimed Nichole was the lucky one because she got their hand-me-downs. Nichole had quite a different opinion. She hated having to wear her sisters’ old clothes and getting less money to buy new things. Her clothing allowance was always less than theirs, which to her way of thinking was completely unfair.
Cassie was the most patient of her two sisters, often bringing Nichole clothes to try on while in the dressing room. Like their mother, Karen wasn’t a great shopper. She preferred to hang out at the cosmetics counter. Funny, it’d been years since she thought about their school-shopping expeditions. It was never quite the same after Cassie left, though.
“I scheduled a surprise for us,” Laurie said, cutting into her musings as she steered Nichole out of the store.
Nichole glanced longingly over her shoulder. Shopping was first on her agenda. She was desperate for a new pair of jeans. Her skinny jeans didn’t fit the same since she’d given birth to Owen.
Although she detested the thought, she might need to go up a size. The difference in her weight was only a few measly pounds, but those pounds seemed to have attached themselves directly to her hips.
“We’ll have plenty of time to shop,” Laurie insisted, dragging Nichole into the mall.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, enjoying the adventure.
“You’ll see.”
The surprise was a shop that specialized in shaping eyebrows. Nichole and Laurie giggled as if they were twenty-year-old college students all over again. Once finished, they couldn’t believe the difference a few hairs could make.