Whatever We Are Read online

  Table of Contents

  What We Are

  CopyrightPublished by Envisage Press, LLC

  Also by Leigh Fleming

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you for Reading!

  Excerpt from Stay Hidden

  About the Author

  Whatever We Are

  By

  Leigh Fleming

  Copyright © 2017 Envisage Press, LLC

  Cover by www.spikyshooz.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9977351-6-1

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of a brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Also by Leigh Fleming

  Precious Words

  Whatever You Call Me

  Whatever You Say

  ONE

  The happiest time of year for most people stretched from Thanksgiving dinner until the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve, but not for Liza Fisk. For Liza, the six weeks of overeating, materialism, and holiday fakery drudged up memories of Christmases gone wrong. It did, however, provide her with a substantial income from the sale of her one-of-a-kind Christmas cards—an irony she chose to ignore.

  Sitting at her Aunt Linda’s table surrounded by family didn’t help her mood; in fact, it only accentuated the impending doom of the season. With a deep eye roll and a heavy sigh, she passed the large platter of white and dark meat to her right and turned to accept a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes from her sister-in-law, Kate. She tugged the silver spoon out of the thick glob of carbs and thwacked a hefty pile on her already crowded plate. Every Thanksgiving dinner was the same: after the plates were filled to overflowing, her mother and her aunt would compare their talented, successful children, and Liza would be reminded she didn’t quite measure up.

  Her beautiful cousin Diana was about to arrive, which put her nerves on edge. Everything Diana touched turned to gold, or so it would seem with the way Aunt Linda bragged. Liza drew in a deep breath, inhaling the savory smell of turkey, stuffing, and other comfort foods that unfortunately gave her little comfort.

  “I’m so sorry Diana is running late everyone. Apparently there was a wreck on the interstate, but she insisted we start without her,” Aunt Linda said. The blinding sparkle of her diamond ring was going to set off a migraine. Uncle Rodney’s construction business must be paying off big.

  “She said she has something exciting to announce when she arrives. She just got that big promotion, so I can’t image what else it could be.”

  Probably something amazing. Diana’s life had been flawless from the moment the doctor smacked her cute little behind: from her wealthy daddy to her patrician beauty to her polished persona, she had it all. She was smart, sociable, and ambitious, and Liza had always felt inferior to Diana’s perfection. Liza sawed across a thick slice of turkey as if she were cutting through a felled tree and stabbed into the meat, dragging it through the potatoes and gravy before shoving it in her mouth. While her cheeks bulged like a squirrel in winter, her mother picked the worst time to ask a question.

  “Liza, would you like to tell everyone about the invitation you received?”

  “Hmm?” She really didn’t want to talk about it in front of her wildly successful family, so she shoved a dollop of mashed potatoes in her mouth. Maybe if she ate quickly she could get out of there before the comparisons got too deep.

  “She’s been asked by a prestigious art academy to submit some of her pieces for a juried show.” Her mother smiled sweetly as she placed a tiny forkful of peas in her mouth.

  “Mawm,” Liza complained through the thick glop halfway down her throat.

  She wasn’t sure she was going to enter. Between work and finishing the last of her Christmas card orders, she hadn’t had time to paint. Besides, the invitation wasn’t that prestigious—just a regional competition. But it gave Sherri something impressive to say about her lackluster daughter.

  “How exciting,” Aunt Linda said.

  “Had enough of bartending yet?” Leave it to Uncle Rodney to remind everyone that Liza worked part-time at the Brass Rail—wasting that college diploma she’d earned.

  “What’s the name of the competition? And where is it?” Liza suspected Aunt Linda knew she wouldn’t enter.

  She swallowed the decimated mass of food with a loud gulp and plastered on a smile to match her mother’s. “It’s in Pittsburgh, but I’m not sure I’ll enter.” She picked up her glass of sweet tea and took a long drink.

  “Pity.” Aunt Linda tired of that subject and went back to her favorite. “Diana just got a big raise, did I tell you? Her promotion to assistant vice president came with a lot of perks.”

  The annual Thanksgiving Day Comparison Olympics was in full swing. Already, Aunt Linda had earned a gold medal on behalf of Diana. After a lifetime of one-upping each other, one would think her mom and her aunt would get bored with it all. Her aunt had plenty to brag about: her daughter Tera worked for a big-name fashion house in New York City, and Diana was quickly climbing the corporate ladder at the biggest bank in their home state of West Virginia. Of course, Mom had earned a few gold medals in the past because of Liza’s brother, Brody, winner of several CMA and Grammy awards from his successful songwriting career. In addition to that, he had recently married Kate and they had their first child two months ago. Liza’s only major accomplishment was one lousy art prize she had won in college. Besides making the best margarita in Highland Springs, her parents had little to brag about when it came to her accomplishments. But, that would soon change. She had bigger dreams than a regional art competition, plans that would have everyone talking and bring a much needed dose of culture to this town.

  She stuffed a buttery roll into her mouth, hoping her chewing would block out the chatter, as the front door blasted open on a rush of cool autumn air. Diana Murray was home.

  “We made it.” Diana threw open her arms, smiling as if the paparazzi were waiting, and released an annoying giggle. “I hope you saved some for us.”

  Uncle Rodney rushed from the head of the table and gathered his little girl in his arms, followed by the rest of the Murray clan who swallowed her in hugs and kisses. Liza hadn’t figured out what Diana meant by “we,” but could see a dark head peeking from behind.

  Finally, the waters parted and her cousin stepped forward with the other half of “we,” his hands firmly placed on her cashmere-clad shoulders. Liza asphyxiated on her iced tea and coughed up what was left in her throat.

  “This is my big surprise. You remember Bret Bridges.” Liza slapped the pilgrim-ado
rned napkin against her mouth and held back a deep belly laugh. Bret Bridges, crowned Mr. Highland Springs his senior year, was from the wealthiest family in the county. He was a carbon copy of Diana—another golden child—handsome, charming, and politician smooth.

  And the first boy to break Liza’s heart. She should have known they’d eventually end up together.

  First semester of Liza’s high school junior year, Bret, a senior, sat beside her in art class. Up until that time, he had never spoken to her, but soon they stayed after school to work on projects together and occasionally he’d call her at night. She fell, hard and fast, and that major crush lasted more than a year but ended in humiliation, heartbreak, and a ride in an ambulance. Seeing Bret sent a cold shiver down her spine, reminiscent of the icy roads that put her in the hospital through Christmas day that year.

  “Aunt Sherri, Uncle Doug, you remember Bret, don’t you?” Diana led Bret by the nose—well, the elbow—re-introducing him to everyone around the table while Liza plowed through her plate so she could get the heck out of there. She had just swallowed a mouthful of stuffing when hands grasped her shoulders. She turned and found Diana’s heavily lined eyes glistening only inches from her own. She dug her nails into Liza’s arms and tugged her into a brief hug.

  “Lizard, it’s been so long.” Why couldn’t Diana drop that silly childhood name? “You remember Bret, don’t you?”

  Liza glanced over Diana’s shoulder and found Bret smiling like a game show host about to give away a side-by-side refrigerator freezer.

  “Of course she does. How’ve you been, Liza?”

  He wrenched her out of Diana’s embrace, pulled her to her feet, and smothered her in a bear hug. His cologne was heavy, burning the back of her throat, making it hard to breathe.

  “Still got that funky artist vibe going on, I see.”

  She stepped out of his arms and brushed her long hair over her shoulder, suddenly self-conscience of the blue tint she’d applied this morning.

  “Liza has a unique style that represents her multitude of talents.”

  Really, Mom? Was she so pathetic her mother needed to defend her choice of hair color and fashion sense? And since when did she have a multitude of talents? Admittedly, she was an excellent painter and a whiz with a cocktail shaker, but declaring she had numerous talents was a bit of a stretch unless you counted her gift for matchmaking and her killer baking skills. Those two abilities were universally known.

  “I’ve been great, Bret. Good to see you, too.” She plopped into her seat and stared at the near-empty plate. Would anyone notice if she had another helping of mashed potatoes?

  “Come you two. Come sit by me.” Aunt Linda waved Diana and Bret toward her end of the table, pointing a long, tapered fingernail at two chairs beside her. “This is such a nice surprise. You hinted at a new man in your life.”

  Unlike Diana who seemed to have a new boyfriend every season, Liza had remained single, enjoying her unencumbered freedom. She had an active social life with plenty of friends, and didn’t need a man to complete her.

  “So tell me everything. What have I missed by living in Charleston?” Diana cast the question out to the table hoping someone would bite. What she got in return were a few wells and ums, nothing worth reeling in.

  “How about you Liza? Still painting I presume?”

  “Yep. Just shipped out my last Christmas card order.”

  “That’s so nice.”

  Diana’s sickeningly sweet reply was anything but. She had no idea the work that went into making the exclusive watercolor cards. Liza started in February, creating six custom designs, and each year she gained new customers. If business continued growing at its current rate, she would have to find another artist to help fill the orders. Her cards were truly unique and earned her almost enough money to live. Bartending at the Brass Rail made up the difference, and kept her up to date with news around town.

  “Your Aunt Sherri told us she’s in a huge art competition,” Aunt Linda said with a condescending smile.

  “I wouldn’t call it—”

  “How exciting. When do you have time to paint and make cards? Don’t you still work at the Brass Rail?” Diana asked with a sneer.

  “Well, I only—”

  “Whatever happened to your gallery idea?” With Bret’s question came a stunned silence. How did he remember the dream she’d shared with him back in high school—a dream she hadn’t even shared with her family?

  “A gallery?” Mom’s sweet potatoes stopped midway to her mouth. “What’s this about a gallery?”

  “It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “A gallery? Here in Highland Springs?” Diana’s condescending glare, through narrowed lashes, made the hairs stand up on Liza’s neck. Her cousin dismissed the notion with a chuckle and a wave of her hand. Did she think the people of Highland Springs weren’t cultured enough to support a gallery? Or did she think Liza wasn’t capable of running one?

  “Highland Springs is becoming a real tourist town with all the antique stores and great places to eat.” Until this moment, Brody had remained silent. “Think of all the folks that come here to hike and raft. And there’s the college. Students could benefit from a gallery. There are plenty of people who would love to visit a gallery during their weekend stay.”

  “Who better than Liza to open such a place?” Kate turned her way, a warm smile on her face. “After all, she knows just about every artist in the state.”

  If it wouldn’t make a scene, Liza would kiss Brody and Kate for their vote of confidence. They must have sensed her frustration, rushing in to save her from the doubters around the table.

  “Where will it be? When will it open?” Diana just wouldn’t let this go. “How will you pay for it?”

  “It’s really too soon to talk about.”

  Liza didn’t need her big-mouthed aunt and cousin knowing about her plan to purchase the old castle from the town and turn it into a gallery. The gossip mill in Highland Springs spun so quickly, she purposely had chosen to work with a Pittsburgh design firm on drawings for renovations and talk with several out-of-town banks about financing. The beautiful castle, built by her great-grandfather as the first car dealership in town, had languished in disrepair for decades. The dilapidated home of Camelot Motors had become the brunt of many jokes over the years with such clever monikers as Leaks-a-Lot, Costs-a-Lot, and Mice-a-Lot, to name a few. She was determined to restore it to its original grandeur and redeem her great-grandfather’s good name, and at the same time prove to her family she could be a success in the art world.

  “Enough about Liza. Let’s hear all about the two of you.” Kate deflected the attention off Liza, thank God.

  For the next ten minutes, the table was entertained with the delightful story of how Bret had come into the bank where Diana worked and applied for a loan, reuniting their old friendship after almost eight years. That one loan application turned into dinner and dancing, followed by true love. Two souls destined to become one.

  “And I have some even bigger news.” Diana clapped her manicured hands together and plastered on a pageant smile until the room became silent. “We’re moving back to Highland Springs.” She turned and covered her mother’s hands with her own. “I didn’t tell you, mama, but the promotion I got was to become regional manager for all the branches in the area. I’m moving back to Highland Springs for good.”

  “Darling, that’s wonderful.” Aunt Linda gathered Diana in a hug and swiped an errant tear from her cheek. “It will be so nice having you back in your old room.”

  “Actually, Bret and I are renting a house over on Spruce. He’s transferring to the Bridgeport office.”

  The surprises just kept coming. The next thing Liza expected to hear was they were planning a wedding.

  “We’re so excited. We’ll be settled in our house just in time for Christmas.”

  Ah, Christmas…that magical time of year when expectations ran high only to be dragged down by disap
pointment. More suicides happened during the holidays and Liza understood why. Most of her memorable Christmases were best forgotten.

  “And we’re going to offer our services to be Mr. & Mrs. Claus this year.”

  “You can’t.” Liza nearly jumped out of her chair. Highland Springs’ Mr. and Mrs. Claus was bestowed on a prominent couple each year and damned if she would let them be chosen.

  “Why not?” Diana looked as though she’d been slapped.

  “Because…”

  It had been offered to Tucker, but he had turned it down, citing the fact that he didn’t have a special someone in his life to play the missus.

  “…it’s already been given to someone one.”

  “Who?”

  “Tucker Callum is going to be Santa this year.” Now Tucker had to do it. She wouldn’t be able to get through the already nauseating holiday season if Diana and Bret showed up at every local event for the next four weeks. With Tucker’s popularity and Liza’s matchmaking skills, he should have no problem finding his Christmas sidekick.

  “I heard he turned it down,” Aunt Linda said with a twist of her lips.

  “He’s not even dating anyone, is he?” Diana’s wine glass sang out a high-pitched tone as she dragged her finger around the rim.

  “No, he isn’t. The only reason he was chosen is because he fits the part.” Aunt Linda’s chuckle made Liza’s skin crawl. She glanced over at Brody and saw storm clouds forming in his eyes. He was very protective of those he loved and Aunt Linda was close to waking the slumbering bear. She shouldn’t be fooled by Brody’s laid-back country boy shtick.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Claus have always been the town’s it couple. With this being the thirtieth anniversary of the Mistletoe Ball, you would think the committee would’ve chosen more wisely. Think how many proposals have happened at the ball over the years. The whole town will be let down if Tucker does it.” Diana had stepped onto her soapbox, letting her turkey and stuffing grow cold. “I mean, who wants a Santa without a Mrs. Claus? Folks around here wouldn’t stand for it.”