The Brushstroke Legacy Read Free

again. How could she have forgotten her cell phone? It sat in its recharging cradle.
    “Call me immediately.”
    Ragni sighed and hit erase again. Surely Susan wasn’t the only one in North America trying to get her. A male voice this time.
    “Hi, Ragni.”
    The sound of his voice made her grimace and ignore the twinge in her heart region. She’d hoped never to hear that voice again. In fact she’d told the owner of that voice not to bother to call, e-mail, write, come by, or make any attempt at communication two months ago after her painstaking decision to dump their two-year relationship— if one could call it that. Dead-end is what she’d decided when Daren had not been able to commit to the wedding they had occasionally discussed. Or the marriage. She finally made the break to get on with her life. All that said, they’d been friends for a long time, and he’d always been a sympathetic ear. Something she desperately needed at the moment.
Ragni!
She almost deleted but for some reason listened through.
    “I wanted to tell you my good news. I met a woman, fell in love, and we are getting married next Saturday. Since you and I were friends for so long, I just wanted your smiling presence at my wedding. Callme and I’ll give you the details. We’re not doing a big wedding—you know how I would hate that. Later.” The click reverberated in her ear.
    This time she did stab the Erase button. Repeatedly. The nerve! The beyond-reasoning nerve of the guy. Hadn’t he heard anything she’d said? She felt like pounding both fists on the wall. And perhaps her head. Married! Fell in love!
Yeah, right, Bubba, you got on with your life all right. After swearing that I was ruining yours by cutting off our friendship. The nerve!
    Short of calling him and telling him how she really felt, what could she do? The chocolate almond ice cream in the fridge screamed out her name, as did the white package of specialty cookies in her cupboard. The two united in plotting her further decline into fat-hood.
    She thought of calling her best friend, Bethany.
After all, isn’t commiserating with you what friends are for?
But then Bethany would give her some line about God’s grace being new every morning. She wouldn’t recognize a real problem if she tripped over it.
I know God’s grace is new every morning. It just doesn’t feel like it lately.
    After a sigh she dialed her sister’s number instead. Susan would probably turn up on the other side of the front door any minute if Ragni didn’t call her back. She gritted her teeth and huffed a snarl.
That creep. To think he called to invite me to his wedding.
    The phone picked up on the second ring. “’Lo.” Erika’s greeting left plenty to be desired.
    “Hey there, sweetie, how are you?”
    “I’ll get Mom.” The phone thunked on the table.
    So much for any change in that relationship. Another one that bit the dust—and for no reason that Ragni could understand. She and Erika had been great friends from the time her niece was born untilthe terrible twelves. Now fourteen, Erika wore only black, an array of chains and metal, clunky boots, and even black lipstick. Goth was the word, an idea that seemed to preclude any family interaction. Even the sight of her made Ragni shudder. The chip on her shoulder the size of Chicago didn’t help either.
    Ragni sighed. Being an auntie was, or at least had been, almost as good as being a mother. She jerked her mind back from that track and waited for Susan.
    “Just a minute.” Susan’s voice came on and then left.
    Ragni could hear her sister telling Erika to get going on her homework and Erika whining that she didn’t have any homework. After all, there were only two more days of school, and why couldn’t her mother leave her alone?
    Ragni hated whining. She hated—no, intensely disliked—children who had no regard for anyone but themselves, which at the moment fit Erika better than her skin-tight T-shirts. She’d been such a neat