Muse

Muse

SOMMER MARSDEN

A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Mischief

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

The News Building

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London SE1 9GF

An eBook Original 2016

1

Copyright © Sommer Marsden

Cover design: Head Design 2017, cover images: Shutterstock

Sommer Marsden asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EBook Edition © Februrary 2016 ISBN: 9780008148843

Version: 2017-08-17

For Jim. Being with you always felt like coming home to me …

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

‘And I don’t want you to be late, Dani. Not like the last time we went to dinner. I was ready to go sitting there like a prom date who’d been ditched—’

Dani hung her head. ‘Mother—’ she attempted. She clutched the silky white teddy in her hand, thinking she should put it in the ‘donate’ pile, but something in her heart clenched at the idea.

‘And then we were late to get the early menu. You know I like the early menu.’

She took a deep breath before finally breaking into her mother’s tirade. ‘I won’t be late. If you let me get off the phone. I have to finish bagging this stuff. I can’t show up at a clothing trade without actual clothing, now can I?’

Her mother humped into the phone and Dani couldn’t help it, she smiled.

‘Fine. Be here at two. Two sharp, Danielle!’

‘I will, Mom.’ She managed to say goodbye and hang up without tearing her hair out.

The room was bright now. She’d painted it yellow after her marriage to Bob had ended. Originally it had been a dark blue called December Evening, but now it was called Bright Eyed Susan. It suited her better, she thought. Suited the way she wanted her life to feel.

‘Fuck it,’ she said and tossed the white teddy in the pile for the clothing swap. It had been her wedding-night lingerie and she saw absolutely no reason to hang onto it. No reason in clinging to the past.

‘Now if we could just work on this future I’m supposed to have. A bright, fun, single woman breaking hearts and kicking ass.’ At least that was what everyone had told her. Everyone had assured her that her life would improve. That it would get better.

Dani picked up the teddy once more and ran the fabric through her fingers. She traced the lace at the edges, felt the hope this garment had once held lance through her. If she shut her eyes it was easy. Too easy, in fact. She could remember that night. The excitement, the buzz of alcohol and wedding festivities and being married. Belonging to someone.

She held it like a talisman, remembering the feel of Bob’s mouth on her mouth. Then the feel of it moving everywhere else. Kissing down her neck, licking at her collar bones, sucking one nipple and then the other. Then his hot breath and wet tongue on her navel before drifting lower. How he’d skated his teeth along the sharp jut of her hipbones and her pubis, before finally, blissfully, moving lower to where she needed it most. Settling his head between her thighs. Licking her until the entire world seemed to surge before crashing down in a wave.

How that night had seemed the beginning and the end. How everything looked shiny and new and seemed to hold magical potential.

‘Fuck,’ she said, opening her eyes and tossing it back in the pile.

That was another woman. Another life. Long gone and best forgotten. All that potential had fizzled like a soda left open. What had started as effervescent had ended up flat and cloying.

She shook her head, checked her clock and set about neatly folding the clothing she’d gathered and tucking it into boxes. Then she filled a bag with purses and another with shoes and a few belts.

‘Out with the old and in with the new!’ she declared to no one at all.

A quick shower and then she was choosing an outfit. Something her mother wouldn’t find issue with. Jeans – not too tight, not too loose – tall black boots, a smoke-grey tunic and a pendant that had been her grandmother’s. She tugged her auburn hair up into a messy topknot and added long earrings. She regarded herself in the mirror and tried on a smile. She loved her mother more than anything but sometimes she had to steel herself to spend long bouts of time with her.

‘She’s going to hate the hair,’ she told her reflection. Then she shrugged, gathered her bags, found her purse, and headed to her mom’s. She had plenty of time, she thought smugly. So there would be no reason at all for her mother to complain. Well, at least not about her being late.

* * *

Helen Young was leaning against her front fence talking to a neighbour when Dani pulled up. Her mother tossed her a wave and went right on yapping. She was decked out in a sage-coloured suit, a cream blouse and some sensible heels. Her greying hair was tucked up into a sleek French twist. It had once been the same shade of auburn as Dani’s, a rich mix of red and dark brown. Now it was heavily streaked with silver. Not grey, her mother always pointed out … silver.

Dani put the car in park, took a fortifying breath and climbed out.

‘She’s on time!’ Helen declared to no one and everyone.

Mrs Fletcher from next door, a few years older than her mom and prone to wearing housecoats all day every day, waved her newspaper at Dani. ‘Hi, hon!’

‘Hi, Mrs Fletcher. How are you?’

‘Still alive!’ she called with a cackle.

‘Good to hear.’ Dani went to her mom, kissed her powdered cheek. ‘Hi, Mom. Your bags?’

‘All up on the porch just waiting for the cavalry to arrive to help me.’

‘Here I am.’ Dani began to load them two at a time. The front steps were steep brick and she’d warned her mother not to attempt bringing the bags down on her own.

When they were all loaded, Dani turned to her mom, who was still rattling on across the fence.

‘Mom?’

When her mom finally took a breath and looked her way, Dani tapped an imaginary watch on her wrist. ‘Tick tick tick … you didn’t want to be late.’

‘I’m being taken now,’ Helen said to Mrs Fletcher. ‘You call me if that sciatica acts up and you need someone to fetch you stuff.’

Mrs Fletcher agreed, waved the paper again and disappeared inside her small house. A house heavily decorated with cat figurines, prints of Jesus at the Last Supper, and doilies. Lots and lots of doilies. Dani had spent summers cleaning the older woman’s house when she was in high school. She’d never had to move so many doilies in her life.

In the car, her mother immediately shut off the radio station with a shudder. ‘Nothing but noise.’

Dani laughed. ‘That’s eighties music, mom. It’s now what they play over the grocery store sound system and it’s been turned into elevator music.’

‘And it’s still noise,’ Helen said, clutching her purse in her lap. ‘You have your bags?’

‘Yes.’

‘You ready to find some new clothes?’

Dani sighed. ‘I guess. I doubt they’ll have anything that really works for me.’

Her mother appraised her with a cocked eyebrow. ‘Oh, come on. You’re not exactly fashion forward, Dani. I’d call you … kitschy and comfy.’

‘I’ll attempt to take that as a compliment.’

Her mom shrugged. ‘Nothing wrong with it. Anyway, it’s for a good cause. Ten bucks and two bags or more gets us our tokens and then they’ll have a silent auction later for pricier items that were donated outright. Some schmoozing—’

‘Schmoozing?’ Dani asked, laughing.

Helen nodded decisively. ‘Yes, some schmoozing, some food, some drinks, and you come home with some new clothes. Win-win-win.’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re excited,’ Dani said. ‘I’m sure it will be fun.’

There was a palpable beat of silence. Dani felt her mother working her way up to saying something. Probably something Dani didn’t want to hear. The pregnant moment passed and Helen tried to be casual as she blew out a breath and said, ‘So … dating anyone?’

Dani managed not to roll her eyes. ‘Nope. Not at the moment.’

Her mother’s lips settled into a thin, dissatisfied line. ‘Dani, you’re not getting any younger.’

Dani shook her head, turned the car onto Harford Road and tried not to get angry. ‘No, but I’m not getting any dumber either. I’m not going to date someone just because I’m not twenty.’

Her mother gave her a nod. ‘Well, that’s true.’

Dani laughed again. ‘Glad you see it my way, Mom. And by the way, thirty-two isn’t exactly ancient.’

Her mother patted her leg. ‘Not at all. But life has a way of creeping up on you. In a blink you’re not thirty-two any more. You’re sixty-two.’

‘I’m sure,’ Dani said, feeling a sudden sadness. Life did go fast but she couldn’t date someone just to date them. And since the divorce had been finalised she hadn’t met anyone she felt the need to spend her time with. It was what it was and she felt it best to accept that. She’d had a few scattershot dates that had been pleasant but nothing special, and then a few that had been the stuff bad-dating comedies were made of. She’d rather be alone.

‘Plus, men die sooner than women, statistically speaking.’

‘Mom!’

‘Well, it’s true. So, you’ll have limited time even once you find the right man.’

‘Mom …’ she sighed. She could feel it coming. The next thing her mom would say.

‘I had thirty wonderful years with your dad and then we lost him. I’ve been alone since. Eleven years later, I’m still alone.’

Dani shook her head, took her mom’s hand briefly and squeezed it. ‘I know, Mom. But let’s change the subject. Because we’re here!’

She turned into the VFW hall’s parking lot and found a spot. Then she cut the engine and turned toward her mother. ‘It’s going to be fine, Mom. I’ll meet someone when I meet someone. It’ll work out.’

Helen gave a decisive nod and patted her hair. ‘You’re right. Of course. I’m sorry. I worry, is all.’

‘It’s your job.’

They paid their donation entrance fee and then an older gentleman went with them to the car and helped them gather and check in their donation bags. Dani watched carefully and noticed her mother was flirting. She couldn’t help but laugh. Helen had tried to give Dani a pep talk and Dani was starting to think it had backfired on her.

They were given a table to set up their clothing. Dani was just displaying the lingerie on the table when a sharp voice cried, ‘Helen Young! And Dani!’

Chapter 2

She turned to see Clara Oliver come rushing up and fold her mother in a big embrace. The woman stood about eight inches taller than her mom and was decked out in a bright floral draped blouse, hot-pink slacks and tall heels. She was the exact opposite of Dani’s mom. Colourful and imposing as a peacock.

Dani blinked. It had been ages since she’d seen Clara and her son. And, speaking of her son, Chris came striding up behind his mother, looking sheepish. He had his hands shoved way down in the pockets of his khakis, and the slouch he’d adopted when they were teenagers when he wanted to be invisible. He looked about as comfortable as a zebra at a gathering of lions.

‘Ages! It’s been ages!’ Clara exclaimed, gripping her mother so tight she looked like a python taking down a lamb.

Dani pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Mostly because her mom wasn’t the most affectionate person and especially not in public. A little giggle slipped free when Helen literally pushed her hands against the larger woman’s arms and levered herself free. She smoothed her hair, looking flustered and more than a little stunned.

‘And Dani!’ Then Clara was coming at her, arms wide so her flowy blouse looked like butterfly wings. A cloud of sweet perfume seemed to linger around her and her lipstick was the bright red of a STOP sign.

Dani took a deep breath and resigned herself to the affection just as she was engulfed in a warm, soft embrace. She hugged the older woman back. ‘Good to see you, Mrs Oliver. It’s been a long time.’

And it had. About fifteen years. The Youngs had lived a few doors down. She’d been in high school with Christopher, him being a year or two ahead of her. They’d hung out as kids, wandering the neighbourhood in the summer, being bored together.

When she was finally released, she stepped back and saw he was watching her. She smiled. ‘Chris.’

‘Dani,’ he said with a small nod. Finally, as if not quite sure he wanted to, he moved in and gave her a quick hug. He smelled good, she noticed. Wood smoke, cotton, fall air. It was a nice scent that made her remember what it was like to be hugged by a man on a regular basis.

She pulled free as the two mothers chattered, catching up, Helen keeping a safe foot or so between herself and Clara lest she try for another public display of affection. ‘You look like you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole,’ she said softly so only he could hear.

His face split into a grin. It was his best feature, that grin. She’d always thought so. ‘If only it would. What a gift from the gods that would be.’

She laughed. ‘You’re a good son bringing your mom here. A gaggle of mostly women hocking their discarded clothes in hopes of new treasures.’

‘My sister’s in Florida so I was her only hope. And I couldn’t say no.’ He was watching his mother, a half-smile on his face. ‘Since my dad died she doesn’t go out a whole lot. And she really wanted to come, so …’ There was that shrug again.

‘I think they have a little refreshment area set up,’ she said. ‘How about I buy you a coffee to reward your good deed?’

His gaze had drifted to her table where all her clothes were laid out. He reached out and stroked a single finger along the fabric of the white teddy she’d displayed on top. A shiver ran through her. It was as if she was magically linked with that piece of clothing and his fingertip had travelled down her skin.

She cleared her throat, a reflex when she was flustered.

It cleared his head and he withdrew his finger. ‘That would be great. We can catch up.’

She asked the older women what they’d want from the vendor and together they managed to wend their way through the sea of people who had gathered to trade clothes and attend the silent auction.

Once they’d hit the line she bumped her shoulder playfully against his as she had when they were young. ‘So, what’s up? Still got the art thing going on?’

He seemed to relax a little with the familiar topic. ‘Yep. Still doing the art thing.’

‘Freelance?’

He nodded as they shuffled forward in the line. ‘I sell paintings, I do some graphic work freelance, and I teach a night class.’

‘Wow,’ she said, bumping him again. Why was he so stiff and uncomfortable? They’d spent hours upon hours in each other’s company growing up, until her family eventually moved. They’d attempted to stay in touch during college, seeing each other occasionally at parties, sending occasional letters and cards for holidays. ‘Who thought the boy who liked to blow up random things in the summer would turn out to be a teacher.’

He smiled, his cheeks blooming with a little bit of colour. ‘Not me. But a friend who teaches full-time at the community college talked me into it. It’s kind of fun, to be honest. The people are a bit older, they’re looking to learn something new. No hopes of being the next Picasso or Warhol. Just the urge to express themselves.’

‘That is awesome,’ she said. They shuffled forward a little more and she turned to see if she could spot Clara and her mom. They were behind, milling around the tables, checking out clothes.

‘You?’

‘Me? Oh, I’m boring. I work as the office manager at a doctor’s office. Kind of fell into it, liked the people, liked the doctors and liked the normality. I only started after Bob and I got divorced. I was writing for the local newspaper at the time, but that little thing didn’t pay much and I needed more money. Single woman and all.’

He’d finally turned to look at her fully. She saw how blue his eyes were. Just as blue as when he was seventeen. They hadn’t changed at all nor had his hair – an unusual shade of red mixed with brown. It looked brown most of the time until the light hit it just right and then it shimmered with deep-red highlights. She’d always marvelled at the colour, even French braiding it one summer when he’d let it grow long. They’d laughed until they’d coughed over that.

‘Why are you smiling?’ he asked, touching her elbow and nudging her forward as the ridiculous line moved again.

‘Wondering if I could get a braid in the close-cropped hair.’

His bark of laughter startled the older woman in front of them. She turned with an annoyed glare. Which made him laugh harder. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled as she turned her back to them.

‘Doubtful,’ Chris said. He nudged the floor with the toe of his shoe. ‘I was going to ask about Bob but now I guess I don’t have to. Sorry to hear about the … about that.’

‘Divorce,’ she said, nudging him. ‘You can say it. I won’t burst into flames … or tears.’ He nodded. ‘What about you? Ever get married? Got a girl? Babies?’

His eyes widened. ‘God, no. I mean, to babies. Not yet. No. I had a girlfriend for a long time but we never got married. Good thing, too. It didn’t work.’

She flinched just a little. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘It’s fine.’ They’d finally hit the front of the line. Chris ordered four large coffees and a plate of fried dough. He caught Dani looking at him and shrugged. ‘Can’t resist the fried dough. A few times a year won’t kill me.’

‘Agreed,’ she said, snagging a fried bit of powdered-sugar-coated dough off the end and popping it into her mouth.

Miraculously, one of six small tables had become free and he nodded towards it. ‘Want to sit for a moment?’

‘The mothers …’

‘Are scanning for deals. The coffee will stay hot.’

Dani sat, doctored her coffee with four packs of sugar and a small creamer. She ate another bit of dough.

‘So,’ he said, taking a deep breath. ‘Despite the obvious … life is good?’

She nodded after only a brief hesitation. ‘Yeah.’

He stared at her with those eyes. She noted the fairy rings of bright green around his irises. She’d forgotten about that.

‘That didn’t sound entirely convincing.’

It was her turn to shrug. She touched her topknot and tugged at a small piece of hair. A nervous habit she was entirely aware of and hated with a passion. ‘I guess I just feel in a rut, you know?’

‘I do.’ He ate a piece of dough and watched her but said nothing. She’d forgotten that too. How he always managed to pry things out of her that she never confessed to others.

‘I kept hearing this was a new Chapter in my life. Cut the dead wood, move forward, single woman with a passion for life, blah, blah, blah. And then …’ She laughed so loud she covered her mouth, embarrassed. ‘There’s my mother who’s got me convinced that I’m going to be either an old biddy with a house full of cats or miserable and alone and bitter if I don’t date like … yesterday.’

‘And you think?’

She sighed, taking a piece of the pastry but not eating it. She just held it like a talisman as she told him the absolute truth. ‘I think I need to do something entirely out of character and live something I’d never ever dreamed I would before I date. To be honest—’ She shook her head.

‘What?’

‘You’re like a hypnotist. Somehow, even after all these years, I spill my guts to you.’

He raised his hands palms up and winked. ‘It’s a gift.’

‘An evil gift,’ she said. But she barrelled on. ‘To be honest, I don’t know who I am at the moment. The years with Bob, the marriage ending, it all changed me. New job, no husband, bad years before the divorce was finalised. I’ve changed. I think I’d like to get to know me before I try to get to know someone else. Casual dating, sure. But something steady … not ready.’

‘So you’d like to step outside the box and do something you never thought you’d do?’

She grinned. ‘Yeah, I know it sounds stupid.’

‘Not at all,’ he said.

‘Good.’

‘And I think I might have just the thing for you …’

She opened her mouth to ask what when the mothers descended like two chattering birds. ‘There you are! There’s our coffee!’

Chapter 3