Unfinished Muse Page 22

  I walked out without looking back.

  ~*~

  When I got home, I felt drained, but at peace. Whatever was going to happen would happen. Polly had taken me off the job and said the clients were no longer my concern. But she was wrong. I cared about them, now. I cared about their dreams. And I wasn’t going to let petty people who were angry with me derail the dreams of Mark, Missy, and Alex. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right.

  I’d have to help them the old-fashioned way. With my own two hands. The next week would be a busy one.

  Once Phyllis heard the sad story of Freddy and Rick in the coffee shop three times, she was satisfied that justice had been and would be served and went quiet for the night. I, on the other hand, was still too wound up to sleep.

  I opened the hall closet and stared at the big black garbage bag tied shut with a knot so final, I’d have to cut it open if I wanted to get inside. Despite my decision to throw it out, I’d never managed to haul it off to the trash.

  Did I dare try again to finish it? What if pieces were missing? What if it was ripped?

  I pushed at the bag with my bare toe. “You’re the reason I ended up in this mess, you know. You’re the proverbial last straw.” I prodded it again, and it prodded back with a sharp pin to the foot.

  My uninjured foot twisted beneath me, and I fell to the floor, landing on my butt in front of the bag. I squared my shoulders and ripped the plastic open. Pins and satin and batting spilled out to the floor. I collected the stray pins and stuck them in a pincushion, then gathered the material to spread on the living room floor.

  It wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Some of the squares needed to be re-pinned, others had been sewn but needed their stitches ripped out and re-sewn. Once the squares were all together, I’d attach the binding on the edges, the backing, and the batting to make it fluffy and sew it all together.

  All in all, a simple project likely to take me about a bajillion hours to complete. But I was determined to do it anyway.

  Getting the whole thing laid out, assessing the damage, and getting everything organized took the rest of the energy I had. I fell into bed and slept hard.

  ~*~

  The next morning, I was up early and back at the craft store. I purchased four cases of toothpicks, two bottles of glue, and a brand-new collection of decorative scrapbooking paper that had arrived in the store that morning.

  I made it to the park bench in time for Alex and Oscar to find me sitting there.

  “Tell me you didn’t lose your dog again. That’s the third time in a week.” He plopped down next to me. “Maybe you should try obedience school.”

  I grinned. “We tried that. You know, no matter how many classes I take, I just won’t listen.”

  Alex had the decency to laugh at my lame joke. He was a pretty good guy.

  I leaned down for a bag I’d shoved under the bench. “I got you a present.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Why on Earth would you want to go and do a thing like that?” He peered inside and found the toothpicks and glue. “How did you know I was running low?”

  I shrugged. “A hunch. How’s it coming?”

  “It’s coming. Nearly done with the main structures, though it’s slower going now since I have to hold the walls up until they dry. After that, I’ll be working on the inside—all the furniture and fiddly pieces.”

  “Would you like some help?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t ask you for that. You’ve got plenty of your own things to do with your time.”

  I held up my hand. “Alex, are you going to get this done in time for the competition?”

  He looked away from me. “I think so.”

  I dipped my head so he’d look at me. “If I helped, would you know so?”

  His reluctance faded, and he grinned. “Yes. I think I would.”

  “Then let me help you? Please?”

  He rose from the bench and stretched. “Wynter, I don’t know where you came from, but Oscar and I are grateful. Aren’t we boy?”

  Oscar gave a sharp bark, then led us back to Alex’s house.

  I spent all day with him in his basement on Saturday, except for when we came up from time to time for lunch or snacks. His mom insisted on feeding me, once she’d pinched my arm and decided I needed more meat on my bones.

  We worked hard down there. Sometimes I held pieces together for him, like a human clamp, until the glue set. Other times, he’d snip a toothpick to a specific size as an example and have me cut an entire box to the same length. I opened boxes, unclogged glue spouts, and mostly kept him going until we were both too tired to continue.

  Before I left, I promised I’d be back on Tuesday to see if he needed any more help.

  After a glass of wine and a quick sandwich, I spent the rest of the evening working on my quilt until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Phyllis sat beside me, murmuring encouragement and singing ‘80s power ballads.

  I didn’t mind her throaty rendition of Bon Jovi’s “I’ll Be There for You,” but by the time she sang Poison’s “Every Rose Has Its Thorns” for the third time, I was ready for bed.

  “I think that’s it for me.” I tied a knot, cut the thread, and stuck the needle in my little stuffed tomato pincushion. “Thanks for the serenade.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Phyllis sounded as tired as I was. “I could sing you a lullaby if you like.”

  I gave her a weary smile. “I won’t even be awake long enough to change out of my clothes. But thanks for sitting up with me tonight.”

  “It’s what friends do, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

  On Sunday, I knocked on Missy’s door and surprised her with the new paper collection.

  “You’re spoiling me,” she said as she took the package. “I only gave you a piece of gum and some laundry soap.” She looked more closely at the paper and gasped. “Is this velvet? Oh, wow.” She dropped to the floor in front of the coffee table and pulled the sheets out of their plastic cover. “I can’t believe how gorgeous this is.” She ran her fingers over the velvet-embossed patterns. “I want to use all of them. Thank you so much!”

  Cassie gurgled from the next room, hiccupped, then started to cry.

  Missy groaned. “So much for that. Gabe’s working this weekend. Babies don’t take days off.”

  I waggled my hand at her. “No. Sit. I’ll get her.”

  “She’ll need a fresh diaper.” She gathered her legs under her to stand.

  “Seriously. I’ve got this. I’ve been a professional babysitter before.”

  “Really?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Trust me. I’ve done just about everything at one time or another.”

  My past experience came in handy. Cassie was a mess. I got her cleaned up and in fresh clothes and diaper, changed her crib sheet, and put all the wet clothes in the hamper. By the time we came out, Missy was in the zone, cutting, clipping, arranging and gluing.

  And that was what it turned out Missy needed from me to help her get her work done. She needed a nanny. Cassie and I spent the day together, playing in her bedroom, having snacks in the kitchen, and rocking in a chair watching her mommy make art.

  When Cassie went down for another nap several hours later, I ran a load of laundry downstairs and brought it back clean and folded. I washed the dishes, cleaned the bathroom, and dusted. The only thing I didn’t do was run the vacuum, since nobody can concentrate with that much noise.

  For the first hour or so, Missy tried to object, afraid she was taking advantage of me. Eventually, when she realized how much she was getting done, she allowed me to help and tuned out what I was doing unless I had to interrupt with a question.

  Around five, she stretched and looked up at me. “I can’t believe I got so much done. I think I’m going to make it in time for the party.” She gave me a hug. “Thank you so much, Wynter.”

  I picked up my purse. “It was my pleasure. Sometimes moms need an extra hand.”

  She hugged me again. “You were amazing. T
hank you.”

  “I’ll come back Wednesday and see how you’re doing. Okay?”

  She grinned. “Awesome. See you then!”

  By the time I got home, I was almost too tired to work on my quilt.

  But I did it anyway.

  Chapter 24

  At least on Monday I didn’t have to work to convince Mark to let me help, since I’d already done that. I did, however, have to work a whole lot harder on the project itself.

  I lifted and carried. I hammered and painted. I dug, mixed, screwed, and drilled. I even went on a beer run.

  We weren’t the only two people there, but the other guys were hired to be there, and their work ethics weren’t so great. When I left to get beer, I stopped at the apartment and grabbed my illicit bottle of bubbles and a few of the wands from the bag in my closet. From time to time, when I thought no one was looking, I used the heart-shaped wand from my collection to blow bubbles at their backs. As the bubbles popped around their heads, I told them what a great job they were doing.

  It didn’t work well, but they didn’t take quite as many breaks as they’d been taking.

  At the end of the day, the hired guys went home, and Mark and I kept at it until we didn’t have light left. The end result was disappointing. I’d seen the plans he’d drawn up, and this was only the skeleton. We had a whole lot more work to do.

  “Don’t worry.” He patted me on the back. “We’ll make it.” His voice was full of confidence, but his expression was anxious.

  I was way too tired to work on the quilt. I was almost finished sewing the squares together, though, so I felt I deserved a night off.

  I hit the pillow hard.

  ~*~

  When I knocked on Alex’s door, his mom answered and let me in.

  “We’re so glad you’re here, aren’t we, Oscar?”

  Poor Oscar was bundled up in a green vest dotted with daisies. He looked uncomfortable.

  “I’m…uh…happy to be here, Mrs. Meyer. Is Alex downstairs already?”

  She shuffled into the kitchen in her daisy slippers, waving for me to follow. “He went down right after breakfast. Here.” She shoved six pieces of bacon into a napkin and handed it to me, then balanced a cinnamon roll on top of the pile. “Take that down with you to eat. You look half-starved.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I kept the roll balanced while I opened the basement door, then escaped downstairs.

  Alex saw my mountain of bacon and laughed. “Sorry. If you’re not hungry, you don’t have to eat it.”

  I shrugged. “She’s very sweet.” I licked icing off the roll. “So. How are you doing? What are we working on today?”

  He waved me over to the table. “See for yourself.”

  The house was done. It was an exact replica of the house I was standing in, even down to the crazy lawn ornaments. He turned the house around and showed me the inside. Tiny toothpick furniture decorated the rooms. There was even a miniature Oscar down in the basement.

  I gasped. “Alex, it’s fantastic. Is it done?”

  “Just a few touchups to do. I’ll probably work on it right up until the judging, but it would be fine even if I entered it right now.”

  I grinned. “You did it. I’m so happy for you.”

  His expression was serious. “Thanks to you.”

  I chomped a piece of bacon. “I didn’t do much.”

  He shook his head. “You did a lot more than you know. If you ever need anything, you let me know.”

  I had a similar experience the next day with Missy. She was still fussing with individual pages, tweaking things here and there, but the book itself was done. All the pages were complete.

  “It’s so beautiful, Missy.” I flipped from page to page, following the story of two people who fell in love, married, had children, went on adventures, and never stopped looking at each other with so much love the camera couldn’t miss it in every single shot Missy had chosen.

  “Do you think they’ll like it?”

  “Oh, honey, they’re going to be so happy with this.”

  She hugged me. “Thanks for making sure I finished in time. You’re a good friend.”

  That was probably very much against the rules. And I didn’t care one bit. “I’m glad I could help.”

  I would have loved for things to have gone the same with Mark as it had the other two. But it didn’t.

  The two guys who’d been helping picked up another job and didn’t show for work on Wednesday. Mark had worked hard, but he’d been by himself. When I showed up to help on Thursday, he looked so forlorn, I wanted to put my arms around him and cry.

  He sat on a half-painted teeter-totter that was supposed to look like gumdrops balanced on peppermint sticks. Instead, it looked like a wooden pole with two purple blobs.

  “What happened?” I stood in the middle of all the chaos, wondering if I’d ruined things for Mark by going to help the others.

  “I failed,” he said. “I should have kept it simple or started sooner. I can’t do this.

  I sat next to him on the center beam. “Can we hire some new guys to finish?”

  He shook his head. “I tried. Not enough notice to get anybody out here. I have to have it done by tomorrow night.” He waved his hand at the yard. “I figure I could finish it up in four days by myself. Three, maybe, with your help. But I can’t do it by tomorrow.”

  At first, my eyes welled with tears. How could things have gone downhill so fast? Then I thought about it, and anger burned away the tears. How did this happen? Well, first, Fate gave a new hire too many clients. This caused my boss to assume Fate was up to something, so she stepped aside and didn’t notice when my trainer failed to train me properly, my paperwork wasn’t in order, and my dates were changed. To top it all off, my ex dropped in to sabotage the whole thing.

  How did it happen? The poor guy got a bad Muse, through no fault of his own—or mine.

  “I’ve got an idea.” I stood to face him, my face serious. “Remember how I told you I work for the government?”

  “Sure. Top secret. Can’t tell me anything.”

  “Yeah. That.” I ran my fingers through the top of my hair, which probably spiked it into a weird punk thing I hadn’t intended. “I think I can get you some help. But I was undercover with them, so they think I’m someone else. If I can get them out here, you have to promise to go along with anything they say about me, and you have to try to keep them working in different areas so they don’t compare notes. Think you can do that?”

  One of Mark’s eyebrows went up. “What the hell do you do for a living?” He held his hand up. “No, never mind. I get it. You can’t say.” He smiled. “If you can get me some help, I’ll do anything you say.”

  I had to swallow a saucy retort. The way he’d said it sounded so dirty. “I’ll be back in a few hours to help. And with any luck, I’ll have a couple of people here first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Both Alex and Missy were surprised to see me again so soon, but when I told them a friend of mine was in a bind with a project for a little girl with leukemia, they were more than happy to help. Well, Alex was happy to help. Missy was willing to come out and help, but her husband, Gabe, insisted on taking over.

  “You helped Missy out when she needed it. And what kind of dad would I be if I let someone else’s little girl be disappointed when I have the day off anyway?”

  So, Thursday, I did some painting for Mark, then Friday, we were a team of four, finishing all the unfinished pieces, getting last coats of paint on the brightest pieces, and putting banners and ribbons on the tallest peaks.

  Halfway through the day, Missy and baby Cassie showed up with lunch. Missy and I sat together on the ledge of a pink, green, and yellow marshmallow castle, swinging our feet eating sandwiches.

  “So,” she said, tipping her head toward Mark on the other side of the yard. “He’s cute as hell.”

  I chewed slowly. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

  “What’s the story there?” Her eyes were lit wit
h amusement.

  “No story. Just a friend.” I braced myself. I knew it was coming.

  “Why not? He obviously likes you.” She jabbed me with her elbow.

  “He does not!” I startled myself with how loud I’d spoken, and lowered my voice. “He does not. Besides—I’m currently off the market for awhile for maintenance.”

  “Ah. I see. Bad breakup.” She took another bite.

  I nodded. “You have no idea.” And I’d had to do it multiple times for it to stick.

  She swallowed and grinned. “Well, when you’re done with maintenance, you might want to come back to this conversation.”

  I watched Mark stretch and bend over to pick up a screwdriver from the grass. “Maybe. I’ve got a whole lot of maintenance to do first, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Cassie fell asleep in the stroller, so there were five of us to work on the remaining project—laying the squishy, interlocking playground tiles on the ground. A path of brightly colored tiles led from the marshmallow play castle, beneath each licorice swing, around the gumdrop teeter-totter, over the rock candy mountain slide, and through the lollipop forest of wobbly climbing springs. The rest of the yard was laid with regular, light-gray tiles to protect from falls and to make the game-board tiles stand out. The last touch was to paint the words start on one end of the colored tiles and finish at the other.

  It was magnificent.

  I had less than two minutes to admire it before my phone rang.

  “Wynter, it’s Polly. I need you to come in and see me. The Muse Board has a decision.”

  ~*~

  I sat in the same chair in Polly’s office I’d sat in before, hands folded in my lap to keep them from shaking, ankles crossed to keep my feet from tapping. I remained still while Polly handed down a decision about my future.

  It occurred to me that no matter what the verdict, I was already in hell.

  “All nine Muses met to discuss your situation,” Polly said. Her gaze scanned my face. “The charges are pretty severe. Rules get broken sometimes, but no one’s ever broken so many of them—especially in such a short time.”