through more sheets of color.
“Gee, I don’t know. Since I first picked up a paintbrush and started fooling around with paint?”
Anita glanced at Teressa, expecting her to be angry, but Sylvie’s words seemed to roll off her like water off a duck’s back. How did they do that? Anita would have been crushed if Sylvie talked to her that way.
“I don’t care. Let’s paint it all white. Can’t go wrong that way.” Teressa flipped the folder closed and shoved it away from her.
Anita pulled the folder back and opened it to the white/beige page. “You’re right. I think beige would work well in the kitchen. And there are so many different shades and tones to choose from.”
Teressa looked at Sylvie and laughed. “She actually sounds excited.”
“Of course I’m excited, and you should be, too,” Anita agreed. “It’s your home.”
“It’s Dusty’s home. We’re just... I don’t know. Visiting?”
Anita leaned forward and covered Teressa’s hand with hers. “I know exactly what you mean. I felt the same way when I first moved in with Cal. The Carson family is so much a part of Collina.” She turned to Sylvie. “Forgive me. I’m not being rude, but you and your brothers—you’re so certain of who you are and where you belong. It can be a little overwhelming.”
Sylvie picked up her brush again and wiped it clean with a rag. “Teressa’s known us forever. She’s practically part of the family.”
“But she’s not,” Anita pointed out. “Yet.”
Teressa sighed. “So what you’re saying is I have to make a space for myself. Invest part of myself in the house. Even if it’s not my home.”
“Exactly.” Anita beamed, pleased she understood. “Decorating can be fun.”
Teressa pulled the file of paint chips in front of her again. “I suppose it’s not fair to leave all the decisions to Dusty.” She closed her eyes. “Trying to visualize here. Red’s probably not a good color for the bathroom?”
“No,” Anita agreed gently.
“Bedroom?”
“No red.”
Teressa’s lips twitched as she pointed at one of the beige hues, her eyes still closed. “Am I getting close?”
Anita tried not to laugh and encourage Teressa’s silliness. Because there was something, a feeling, just out of sight, as she goofed around. If Anita didn’t know better, she’d think Teressa was afraid, which was ridiculous because she was one of the most fearless women she knew. Wasn’t she?
“You know, I think that color may actually work.”
Teressa’s eyes flew open. “Which one?”
“This one, and see how it has the faintest hint of yellow? That will reflect the gold of the living room.”
“Okay.” Teressa flipped over several sheets until she came to the blue/green page. “Bedrooms. Sure I can’t have red for Dusty’s?”
“Well, he did say something about painting it purple, and that’s close to red, I suppose.”
“Purple?” Teressa sputtered. “No way. You can’t paint a bedroom purple. It would look like a bordello. Isn’t that just like a man.”
Anita grinned. “I’m just yanking your chain.”
Sylvie stopped painting and turned around. Oh, dear. Sylvie and Teressa were staring at her as if she was the worst kind of idiot in the world. What had she been thinking to try to make a joke? She was hopeless at light repartee.
Sylvie started laughing first. Teressa joined in a second later with her lovely, deep laugh. A giggle bubbled out of Anita, and suddenly she was laughing so hard, the muscles in her face hurt.
She was wearing jeans, and she’d made a joke that her friends were laughing at. She could do this. She could change and grow into someone Cal could fall in love with again.
When she’d finally admitted to Cal that she’d had a miscarriage, their marriage had been damaged almost beyond repair. She hadn’t even told him she was pregnant to begin with. They hadn’t been trying for a child, because Cal had said he wanted to wait another two years. She’d
“Gee, I don’t know. Since I first picked up a paintbrush and started fooling around with paint?”
Anita glanced at Teressa, expecting her to be angry, but Sylvie’s words seemed to roll off her like water off a duck’s back. How did they do that? Anita would have been crushed if Sylvie talked to her that way.
“I don’t care. Let’s paint it all white. Can’t go wrong that way.” Teressa flipped the folder closed and shoved it away from her.
Anita pulled the folder back and opened it to the white/beige page. “You’re right. I think beige would work well in the kitchen. And there are so many different shades and tones to choose from.”
Teressa looked at Sylvie and laughed. “She actually sounds excited.”
“Of course I’m excited, and you should be, too,” Anita agreed. “It’s your home.”
“It’s Dusty’s home. We’re just... I don’t know. Visiting?”
Anita leaned forward and covered Teressa’s hand with hers. “I know exactly what you mean. I felt the same way when I first moved in with Cal. The Carson family is so much a part of Collina.” She turned to Sylvie. “Forgive me. I’m not being rude, but you and your brothers—you’re so certain of who you are and where you belong. It can be a little overwhelming.”
Sylvie picked up her brush again and wiped it clean with a rag. “Teressa’s known us forever. She’s practically part of the family.”
“But she’s not,” Anita pointed out. “Yet.”
Teressa sighed. “So what you’re saying is I have to make a space for myself. Invest part of myself in the house. Even if it’s not my home.”
“Exactly.” Anita beamed, pleased she understood. “Decorating can be fun.”
Teressa pulled the file of paint chips in front of her again. “I suppose it’s not fair to leave all the decisions to Dusty.” She closed her eyes. “Trying to visualize here. Red’s probably not a good color for the bathroom?”
“No,” Anita agreed gently.
“Bedroom?”
“No red.”
Teressa’s lips twitched as she pointed at one of the beige hues, her eyes still closed. “Am I getting close?”
Anita tried not to laugh and encourage Teressa’s silliness. Because there was something, a feeling, just out of sight, as she goofed around. If Anita didn’t know better, she’d think Teressa was afraid, which was ridiculous because she was one of the most fearless women she knew. Wasn’t she?
“You know, I think that color may actually work.”
Teressa’s eyes flew open. “Which one?”
“This one, and see how it has the faintest hint of yellow? That will reflect the gold of the living room.”
“Okay.” Teressa flipped over several sheets until she came to the blue/green page. “Bedrooms. Sure I can’t have red for Dusty’s?”
“Well, he did say something about painting it purple, and that’s close to red, I suppose.”
“Purple?” Teressa sputtered. “No way. You can’t paint a bedroom purple. It would look like a bordello. Isn’t that just like a man.”
Anita grinned. “I’m just yanking your chain.”
Sylvie stopped painting and turned around. Oh, dear. Sylvie and Teressa were staring at her as if she was the worst kind of idiot in the world. What had she been thinking to try to make a joke? She was hopeless at light repartee.
Sylvie started laughing first. Teressa joined in a second later with her lovely, deep laugh. A giggle bubbled out of Anita, and suddenly she was laughing so hard, the muscles in her face hurt.
She was wearing jeans, and she’d made a joke that her friends were laughing at. She could do this. She could change and grow into someone Cal could fall in love with again.
When she’d finally admitted to Cal that she’d had a miscarriage, their marriage had been damaged almost beyond repair. She hadn’t even told him she was pregnant to begin with. They hadn’t been trying for a child, because Cal had said he wanted to wait another two years. She’d
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