Burning Up. Susan Andersen

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СКАЧАТЬ it had been sitting on toward her cousin. Easing it into position, she winced in sympathy when pain clouded Janna’s expression during the moment it took to lift her cast-encased leg onto it.

      Dammit, Janna was the closest thing she had to a sister, and seeing her hurt made Macy want to wrap her in yards of warm chenille and ply her with cup after cup of hot tea. This, despite the fact that it must be ninety degrees outside.

      Janna sighed. “I hate being an invalid, so I tend to overdo. Which is why Mom wants you here—when you ride herd on me I don’t get all defensive.” Spearing her fingers through her normally shiny but currently dull ear-length chestnut bob, she flashed a tired smile. “Thanks for dropping everything and coming so fast.”

      “Are you kidding me?” She sank to her haunches in front of the other woman and, picking up Janna’s hand, held it gently between her own. “Where else would I be—you’re family. Do you have any idea how much I loved this town before all the crap began? And it was all because of you and Uncle Bud and Auntie Lenore. Not to take anything away from Mom or anything, but living with you guys? That was the first time in my life I felt as if I had a real home.”

      “I thought it was so cool when you got to come here.”

      Embarrassed by the sentimental tears that rose in her eyes, Macy looked around the room. Even with all the regular furniture moved out, there wasn’t much space to spare with the addition of two beds and two dressers. “Are you sure you want me to bunk in here with you?” she asked. “I can easily make do with the Closet.”

      “It’s not available,” Janna said. “We had to do some switching around in February to accommodate a new boarder, and we moved Tyler in there. Wait until you meet—”

      “Tyler got shoved out of his room and ended up in the Closet?” she interrupted indignantly. “Janna, that’s just wrong!”

      Her cousin laughed. “Not in Ty’s eyes, it isn’t. He actually loves it. He likes pretending it’s a nuclear-class submarine and he’s the master spy. It doesn’t hurt that his best friend, Charlie, thinks it’s beyond cool, either.” Her mouth crooked in a wry smile.

      “Only a nine-year-old,” Macy said, shaking her head at the notion of anyone thinking that sweatbox of a six-by-ten-foot room was “beyond cool.” “Then how about our old room?” They’d shared an upstairs room for several years as teens. “Auntie Lenore said they’re keeping it open for when you can navigate the stairs again, and I’d be out of your way but still close enough to help.”

      “Uh, the thing is, I can’t use these crutches and carry anything bigger than a pair of undies at the same time. So I need help with the fetching and toting. I’m sorry, Macy, I know it’s cramped in here and not what you’re used to—”

      “No, no, no, no, no!” She shook her head in vigorous denial. “I didn’t mean it that way at all!” The action made her realize she still had on the sailor hat and she reached up to lift it off. Tossing it onto the bed Janna had assigned for her use, she tugged free the blond wig she’d worn beneath it. “I was afraid I’d be crowding you, not the other way around!”

      “Then we’re talking apples and oranges and don’t have a problem. Here. Fork that over.” Janna crooked “gimme” fingers at the wig. “I always wondered what I’d look like as a blonde.”

      Macy tossed it to her, then ran her fingers through her own super-straight hair, which was more caramel colored than the do-me-daddy platinum of her wig. She rubbed her scalp to lift the roots and sighed as a breeze ruffled through the white curtains, combing cool fingers through the freed strands and setting them to dancing against her collarbones. Toeing off her Cuban heels, she kicked them aside, then breathed a long, attenuated “Ahhh,” and wiggled her toes. “Lovely.”

      “I’m glad one of us is,” Janna murmured, making a face as she tugged at the wig and a pale blond strand flopped over her eye.

      “It’s hard being adept in the beauty department without a mirror.” Macy crossed to her cousin and shifted the hairpiece into proper position, then finessed the curls into a sassy style. Standing back, she surveyed her handiwork.

      “You need a little makeup.” Grabbing her purse, she upended it over her bed and picked her cosmetic case out of the resulting jumble. Handing a tube of lipstick to Janna with instructions to dab some on, she applied a pale rose blusher to her cousin’s poreless cheeks, then mixed brown eye shadow into a daub of Vaseline she’d smeared on the back of her hand. She applied the concoction over Janna’s eyelids with a deftness gained through years spent taking mental notes while makeup artists got her camera-ready for this, that or the other video shoot. After smoothing the gleaming eye shadow to just above the crease in Jenna’s eyelid to give her cousin a thirties silent-movie-star look, she finished it off with a coat of mascara, then leaned back to inspect her work. “Now you look like the coz I remember.” Twisting around, she reached behind her for the hand mirror atop Janna’s dresser and turned back to extend it to her. “Here. Check it out.”

      Janna stared at her reflection for several silent seconds. Then, the hand holding the mirror dropping to her lap, she looked up, a slow well of tears pooling in her eyes.

      Remorse slammed through Macy. “Oh, my God, Janny, I’m sorry! I’ll take it off!” She snatched several tissues from the box on the dresser where she’d gotten the mirror. “Don’t cry, it’ll only take me a second to remove it!”

      “No! Don’t you dare.” A choked sound rose from Janna’s throat and she dashed the sides of her hands beneath her eyes. Then she let out a watery laugh. “Well, don’t I feel like an idiot. It’s just…I look like a woman again. For the first time since that car hit me and took off—no, since even before that, when Sean walked out—I look like an honest-to-gawd woman instead of somebody’s patient or a woman whose husband dumped her for a twenty-year-old or, I don’t know, whatever it is I’ve been these past six months. Jeez,” she said. “Can you say overreaction?” Bringing the mirror up to study her reflection again, she turned her head this way and that to take in the full effect.

      And smiled. “I make a pretty hot blonde, if I do say so myself.”

      “Yes, you do. And it’s my fervent hope that the bastard who put you in the hospital and that little prick Sean contract a raging case of the—”

      Janna brought her hands together in a single loud clap. And wiggled her eyebrows.

      Macy laughed. “Precisely.”

      Her cousin sighed. “What is it about men, anyway? You can’t live with ’em and the law frowns on neutering them. It’s not exactly a win-win situation.”

      For no good reason, an image of Gabe Donovan popped into her mind. With his big body and near-black hair. Those gray eyes. His strong nose, strong chin, strong…well, everything—or at least that was how it had appeared to her.

      Damn. She hadn’t even realized she’d been paying such close attention, but here she was with warm blood rushing to places it had no business going and her heart beating much too rapidly. And all because of an unbidden mental slide show featuring a man she’d met for all of maybe two minutes.

      Well, get a grip, girl! She slammed a lid on the images. She had zero time for this.

      As if on cue, the door banged open, bouncing off the wall with a crash and creating a welcome diversion. “Mom, can Charlie stay for dinner—hey!” Macy’s nephew, Tyler, spotted her and his entire face lit up. “You’re СКАЧАТЬ