Chapter Six

The next morning, M bounded out of bed with her resolve firmly in place.  No more sucking it up.  No more dealing with the lemons life had handed to her.  Her world centred on food, the creation of delectable dishes.  She had a gift in being able to throw together seemingly random ingredients and ending up with a work of art. With her skill she’d produce the best lemonade anyone on the planet would ever taste.

Time for a change, M, my girl.

That meant accepting Jonathan’s offer of help, but she decided the end justified the means.  So what if he thought of her as some pro bono, charity case?  She’d never been a fool—well, for the most part—and she didn’t plan on becoming one at this stage of her life.

If Jonathan Davenport wanted to be her gift horse, fine.  She’d take what he offered, and not ask to see his teeth.

Although…checking out his mouth did sound like a delicious idea.  But looking wouldn’t be enough.  Uh-uh.  No way.  She’d have to touch and taste as well.  Oh, yeah.

Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Thinking about him on a sexual level was courting disaster.  In a big way.  For the time being she lived in his house and despite a rocky start, she planned to make this work. It’s wasn’t like she planned to stay here forever, but she didn’t want to do anything to make him ask her to leave.

She knew from experience people could turn against her because of assumptions.  Even people who claimed to love her.  While in this house she’d tread carefully.  She wouldn’t hand over the gun and the ammunition for someone to use against her.

After showering, she stood in front of her closet.  Her clothes—all her earthly belongings actually—had arrived yesterday.  She’d spent some time before dinner yesterday pressing everything—in a laundry room the size of her last bedroom—and now had a few more options on what to wear.

Which wasn’t necessarily a good thing.  Why this overpowering need to make a good impression?  It so wasn’t like her.

Yet here she stood, hemming and hawing.

She finally decided on a pair of tailored, but figure hugging, white capri pants, then topped them off with a fabulous silk cotton sweater set she’d picked up in Winner’s for a steal.  It’s deep, sapphire blue color looked incredible on her.  Ha!  Who cares about how it looked on her?  She looked incredible in it!

After dressing, M returned to the bathroom.  She inspected her face as she pulled out giant steam rollers, leaving her hair in soft waves—which would magically disappear as soon as she stepped out into Toronto’s soupy August humidity.

“Hmmm.  I know I saw my makeup bag while hunting for the rollers.  Why didn’t I pay more attention when packing them?  Hah!  Because you rarely—if ever—use makeup and rollers, that’s why!”

She looked into the reflection of her eyes and considered what she’d just said to herself.

Was she primping for Jonathan?

“Nope.  This isn’t about Jonathan.  This is about me.  I need to do this for myself.”

M rediscovered her makeup bag, applied the barest hint of blush, eye liner, and mascara, and felt good to go.   She refused to put lipstick on, because that would be pushing it.  Really pushing it.

She stood at the top of the grand staircase, and surveyed her new lodgings while chewing her lip.  It’s only temporary, but I’ll make this a home.  I want to know what a home feels like.

M grabbed a hold of the beautifully carved oak banister and descended.

Mrs. Brickman hadn’t arrived yet—or was skulking in that huge pantry—but thanks to the wonders of modern technology, a pot of coffee stood ready on the counter.

After pouring a cup and making it to her liking, she leaned back against the counter and took a sip.  Closing her eyes, she savoured a surprising sense of well-being.

“Morning.”

At the unexpected sound of his voice she gasped, and some of the coffee flowing down her throat took the wrong route.

Her gasp turned into a coughing fit as coffee hit her windpipe.  Tears welled as she tried to gain control.

Before she regained her breath, she found herself surrounded by Jonathan.  He stepped in front of her, pulled her chest flush to his, then with his right hand, sharply slapped her between the shoulder blades.

And suddenly her breathless state had nothing to do with the coffee dancing in her trachea.

Her nipples realized where they were and sprang up to high-five—uh, high-two—his upper abs.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, her body betrayed her even farther when her olfactory senses caught the scent of his cologne.  A brain cell destroying need to discover its source had her crowding in even closer as her nose nestled into the valley between his shoulder and ear, then traveled eastward to land in the hollow of his throat.  And since her lips were right there with her nose, she skimmed them lightly across his skin.

After all, as a cook, this is what she did.  Tasted things to make sure they were just right.

Mmm.  Oh, yeah.  Just.  Right.

Jonathan froze.

M’s brain reactivated.  Oh, God!  What am I doing?

He grabbed her upper arms, about chest level, and thrust her away.  Okay, he hadn’t missed the little darts digging into his chest, but really, how could he?

Needing to create distance—both physical and mental—M took another giant step away, went on the defensive, and blasted him.

“What’s wrong with you?  Don’t you read?  You’re not supposed to slap a choking person on the back!  Don’t ever do that to your sister.  If it was food she was choking on you could force it down into her lung.”

Hello?  Had he even heard a word she said?

Jonathan’s face wore a glazed expression as he stared at her breasts.  Really, was he about to start drooling?

Barely restraining a desire to clap her hands over them like some puritanical maiden, M tapped her foot—hard—and thought about buying new bras.  The padded kind.  Which she hated.

But since she didn’t know which muscles and nerves to use to control her nipples—she couldn’t wiggle her ears either, so no surprise there—and the sight of them seemed to affect him so much, maybe she needed to reconsider.

Now, there’s a thought!

No, no, no!  Get a grip!

Apparently the toe tapping finally registered and his synapses re-engaged.  Watching as his eyes traveled up to meet hers, she barely suppressed an evil chuckle.  She’d never experienced this kind of raw, sexual power over a man, and she found she enjoyed it.

Given the way his face snapped into a scowl, she hadn’t done a very good job of hiding her thoughts.

Installment 20 Coming Soon!

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Flipping open her phone, she keyed in his speed dial number.

“Hey, it’s me.  Do you have a minute?”

“Just one.  What’s up?  Is everything okay?”

“I think so.  I just wanted to run something by you.”

“Shoot.”

“Jonathan, the guy I’m living with…ah…I mean…”

“M, I know what you mean.  Go on.”

“Well, he’s a Chartered Accountant.  He’s offered to help me with the business end of starting my business.  Like read my business plan—ha!  As if I have one!  Anyway, he’ll help.  For free.  I don’t really know why, but he will.  Do you think I should take him up on it?”

“Do you think he has an ulterior motive?”

M chewed her lip and squinted at a pouffy cloud overhead.  “No.  I honestly don’t think he’s playing any games.”

“Then go for it.  Those guys don’t come cheap.”

She swirled her feet for a moment before saying anything else.  “Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think I can do this?  Start a business, I mean?”

“Sweetie, I think you can do whatever you put your mind to.  If this is what you really want, you’ll find a way to make it happen.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Come on.  We’ve always been straight with each other.  You know that.”

Despite her mood, M laughed.  “Yeah, I do.  Even when you’re pretending you’re not.”

“Har har.”

“Couldn’t resist.  Anyway, thanks, Charlie.  I needed to hear this.  I’m not feeling too confident about myself right now.  Don’t worry.  I’ll explain when you have more time.”

“I’ll see that you do.  Anything else?”

“No.  Charlie?”

“Uh huh?”

“I wish I’d had someone like you around when I was growing up.”

“I love you too, kid.  And I’m around now.  That should be all that matters, dontcha think?”

He certainly had a way of slicing to the heart of a matter.  “I think you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.  Later, sweetie.”

“Bye, Charlie.”

Charlie was right.  She spent far too much time mired it the—well, mire—of her past.  She needed to break that destructive cycle and focus on her present.  Her future.

She’d only been in Toronto since yesterday, and so far it had been an experience fraught with varying degrees of anguish, but for some reason she was more determined than ever to make this work.

Did Jonathan Davenport have something to do with it?  What alluring quality did he possess, making her forget all reason?

The man who’d answered the door yesterday had been cold, aloof.  And okay, maybe that made sense.  Things were different in the big city.  You opened your door to a stranger with a degree of caution.  And she really couldn’t fault him for his prudence since inviting her into his home.  She tried to imagine letting an unknown have compete freedom to roam in her private space and knew she’d have a hard time with it.

Since then, she’d seen the opposite side of him, and she had to admit to being enthralled.  Against her will, of course.

So, what was the attraction?  Certainly, his relationship with his sister made a huge impression.   Watching a man in his thirties relate to his five year old sister made her heart ache.  In her opinion, the way you treated children said a lot about you.  Oh sure, there were probably loads of people who were monsters on some level, while being kind to kids and animals, but she didn’t believe that to be the case here.

Given what her sister had done to his family, his treatment of her so far amazed M.  He’d been willing to overlook a lot, and ask her into his home.

And the way he treated Mrs Brickman.  He obviously didn’t view her as merely the hired help.  He treated her with respect and a huge dose of affection.  And concern showed in his eyes as the followed her slow movement around the house.  M had seen him kiss the older woman’s cheek, as well as give her loving squeeze.  Those two obviously had more than an employer/employee relationship.

His offer of assistance amazed her.  He’d done so much already.  Oh sure, he would get something out of this deal too.  She knew her being here wasn’t all about him being kind and helpful to a stranger in need.  And despite the family connection, that’s exactly what she was.  A stranger.

As a CA, he stood at the top of the accountant pile.  Surely his services didn’t come cheap.

She’d read somewhere that a lot of professions in Canada faced dwindling numbers.  Since the baby boomer generation had hit retirement age, the number of professionals were falling off at an alarming rate.  That has to cause some fierce competition among the ranks.  If you were good at what you did—and she had no doubt Jonathan Davenport would be at the top of any class—you could likely pick and choose your clients and charge anything you wanted.  You didn’t go around offering your services free of charge.

M clenched her toes and halted the motion of her feet in the water.  The tranquility of the evening, the sound of the waterfall, and the rustling, twilight breeze, had done their job—almost—and moved her thoughts from an angst ridden past, to a quiet thoughtfulness about her present and future.

Thoughts of Jonathan moved her from a place of lazy reflection to somewhere where the soft glide of water on her feet and legs became akin to the sensual caress of a lover’s hands on her flesh.

How—why—did he churn her up this way?  He hadn’t been overt in any way.  Sure, he paid attention to her, watched her as if he was a biologist and she was some foreign organism sitting in his Petri dish.

With nothing more than a searing look from those pale green eyes, he could warm—warm?  Ha, he could start a conflagration—her insides in a way no man ever had.  Even the man she thought she’d marry.  The intensity of it frightened her.  Her life needed to be about remaining in control.  Because who knew the ramifications of losing control?  Where could the destructive influence of the fires he started lead her?

And why did she have to be so negative?  Why naturally assume this emotion could be destructive?  Maybe she had the chance at something good—great even—for once her in life.

Ha.  Not.  Time to get real M.  You’re negative because in some sick way you really are a product of your environment.  This is all about learned behaviour.  Life has taught you that as far as you’re concerned, it only has the negative to offer.  Get over it.

No.  Don’t get over it.  Change it!

Go to Installment 19

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M leaned back against the closed door and looked at her watch.  Only eight fifteen.  Far too early for bed.

Making a snap decision, she ran upstairs to get her cell phone.  Back downstairs she stopped in the kitchen and snagged a can of pop out of the fridge, then headed outside.

Hopefully, the elements would prove to be a balm to her wounded spirit.

Over the years she’d lived in a variety of places, and she’d learned that fire, water, and the soft brush of an evening breeze were better than the pharmaceutical haze any tranquilizer could provide.

While the house boasted multiple fireplaces, including one in her room, no one with an ounce of sanity used a fireplace during a Toronto summer.  And although the backyard—her destination—didn’t offer the hypnotic pounding of oceanic surf, it did have a first rate substitute.

She stepped out the back door into an oasis.

M closed her eyes and let the sound of water spilling over rock and air whispering through leaves, console her.

Opening her eyes again, M looked at the scene before her.  Just as her bedroom was light years away from her childhood sleeping conditions, this bore no resemblance to the dry, scrubby ground her and Summer had to play in as children.

She stood on a huge flagstone patio leading to an irregular shaped pool.  Attached to one end of the pool, a large round hot tub in matching flagstone gurgled.  At the other, a waterfall rushed over a mountain of hewn stone, about four feet high.  The patio eventually gave way to lush gardens, what seemed to acres of the greenest grass imaginable, then a tennis court.

M made a beeline to the two person poolside hammock standing between the gardens and the pool itself.  Settling herself in, she drew a shaky sigh.

How did she come to grips with the events of the last day and a half?  The indictments against her family just kept piling up, and with every new crime she learned of, she felt as if she were losing personal ground.  As if she was being buried by the weight of their sins.

Could she keep her promise to Alicia?  To Jonathan?  She vehemently denied being drawn with the same brush Summer had been painted with, but what if she was wrong?  She’d never spent much time around youngsters, so she didn’t have any experience to rely on.  Maybe she’d lose her patience one day, then haul off and start whaling on Alicia.

No.  You’re not capable of that.  And you know it.

There’d been times in her life when she’d truly wanted to lash out at someone—and could have justified it before anyone—but she’d never done it, no matter what the provocation.

Her parents had often used either her or Summer as their personal punching bags.  M chose to believe it hadn’t been premeditated.  The excuses she offered up in her parent’s behalf were fatigue, inebriation, high on drugs.  Any of those were far more acceptable to her than believing her parents had deliberately—with soundness of mind—done what they had.

She opened her can of pop before wriggling into a more comfortable position.  With her foot, she set the hammock in motion, enjoying the whoosh of air on her cheeks as the seat moved forward.

Maybe she was wrong in thinking she wasn’t capable of hitting a child, or any form of violence.  She knew there are all kinds of things we, as human beings, are capable of.  The difference is most people, through the strength of their convictions and self control, would never allow themselves to go to those extremes.

M knew all about convictions and self control.  The intensity of her belief in herself, the knowledge that with hard work and perseverance, she could be a better person, had led her to where she stood today.

It wasn’t like she’d just learned Summer had chosen a different path.  That had been evident when they were still kids.  But there were different paths, and then there were aberrant choices.

That’s what it was all about, right?  Choices?  She prayed to God every day asking for clarification on the issue.  And asking for the power to stay true to her choice.  Because the alternative wasn’t acceptable.  The belief her choices had been made for her based on genetics or environment.

M heaved herself out of the hammock, kicked off her shoes, and sat her can of pop on the ground.  She needed to feel the water.  Sitting down again on the pool deck, she let her legs dangle below the surface and laid back.

She looked at the sun, now a huge fiery ball sitting on the western horizon, about to fall behind it.  The softness of twilight would soon envelope her, and she planned to enjoy it.  This constant state of angst, her continual over-analyzing of whether or not she could raise above her beginnings, wore her down.  But she couldn’t stop.  She was afraid to.  Maybe it was the fact that she beat herself up over it that kept her on the straight and narrow.

Swishing her feet back and forth, enjoying the soothing caress of the water, she forced her thoughts ahead instead of behind.

Should she accept Jonathan’s offer of help?  She’d probably be a fool not to.   She hated the thought of admitting to him she didn’t have a full fledged plan, but that was part of her nature.  For all she could be very task oriented in some aspects of her life, in other’s she flew by the seat of her pants.  Spontaneity, and the ability to pick up and leave whenever she desired, kept her sane.  At least that’s what she tried to convince herself.  She was afraid it had more to do with running away, and less to do with spontaneity.  More to do with a constant search for what she’d never had, than the ability to pick and leave on nothing more than a whim and a prayer.

Time to talk to Charlie.  While he couldn’t always be counted on to conduct himself in the most reasonable manner, he’d often been able to talk some common sense into her.

Go to Installment 18

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Thanks to Nan Donahue for sharing one of her manuscripts.

Later that evening M tapped on the door to Jonathan’s office.  For the last forty minutes she’d sat in the kitchen trying to cloak herself with a blanket of calm.

It proved to be a useless exercise.

Bottom line?  She had to tell Jonathan what she’d learned today.  The whole situation made her ill for so many reasons, but this was the right thing to do.

“Come in.”

She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

M gave herself a bit more time by letting her eyes sweep the room before landing on him.  She didn’t know a lot about interior design, but this room fit him somehow.

Most of the house screamed rich old man, old money.  The office, with its clean lines and bold strokes of colour felt more young urban professional than rich old man.

M’s eyes clung to him as he stood.  Why did he affect her this way?  Not long ago she swore she’d never let another man have any sort of power over her emotions.  Especially a man like him.  Someone who made her feel like a peon standing before a prince.  She didn’t need her lowly stance crammed down her throat every time she looked at someone.

Yet despite her intentions, with just a look, he made her smoulder.  Fires long doused danced to life, and she felt the tickle and lick of their flames.

She pressed a hand against her belly.  Control.  She needed control. But the fact that she knew—knew—he felt the heat too, made control elusive.

Well, what she needed to tell him would extinguish the fire, and likely lower her in his estimation.

“Do you have a minute?”

“Yes.  Is everything okay?”

She gulped.  “Um…no.”

He settled back in his chair and waved to her to take a seat.  He didn’t say anything, just arched a brow, and waited.

M laced her fingers together in her lap and looked at them.  ‘There’s something I need to tell you.  Today…this afternoon…”

She looked up when she heard his chair squeak.  He’d leaned toward her.  “Yes?  Today?  What happened today that you need to tell me about?”

“Alicia dropped her ice cream cone on my foot.”

He dropped back in his chair, an expression of disbelief crossing his face.  “And you’re making this big of a deal about it?  Lady, do us both a favour and pack your bags now.  She’s a kid.  Stuff happens.  If you can’t deal with that you shouldn’t have agreed to this.”

Don’t cry.  Don’t cry.  Just tell him.  She gripped her fingers together so tightly the colour leached out of them.  “She asked me if I was going to hit her.  She thought I would hit her for making a mistake.  And I knew.  I had to ask her, but I already knew.  Summer used to hit her.”

For an instant his face went blank, pale.  Then his eyes blazed, and he morphed into the beast she’d likened him to yesterday.

He jumped up and came around the desk to her.  “What? That’s impossible.  She would have told us.”

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  Summer told her she’d hurt your father if Alicia ever told either of you.”

“She’d hurt Dad?  That’s crazy.”

“No.  It makes sense.  I’ve watched your sister.  She loves you, and she’d try to protect you.  She let Summer hit her to protect you and your father.”

He prowled around the room, fury rolling off him in waves.  “My God…  I knew she was trash.  I tried to warn my father, but he couldn’t see past her face, and the fake way she smiled at him.  But hey, why should I be surprised?  She was just one more in a long line of low women that played my father for the sucker he was.”

Tears ran unchecked now.  And her nose.  She’d kill for a Kleenex.  “I’m sorry.”

He whirled on her.  “Would you stop it!  Stop apologizing.  What happened between you and Alicia?”

“I didn’t hit her!”

He sat down at his desk, lowered his head into his hands, and gripped his hair with his fists.  “What did you say to her?  She seemed okay.  A little quiet, but she’s been quiet since she met… oh God.  That’s why she’s been acting so strange around you.”

M gave in and wiped her nose on her wrist.  Eewww.   “I told her to tell you if anyone ever hit her, or scared her.  Even if it’s me.  She’s supposed to run right to you, no matter what anyone says.  I promised her I would never hit her.”

She looked at him and repeated.  “I would never hit her.”

Jonathan just stared at her.

She’d known this deal had to be too good to be true.  Things just never came this easily to her.  “I’ll leave.  I understand.  Would you mind…”  Her breath hitched, and she swiped a hand across her cheeks.  “Would you mind if I spent the night and left in the morning?”

He opened a drawer and rooted around, then stood with a box of tissues in his hand and came around the desk.

“Here.”

She grabbed one and wiped her eyes.  Grabbed a second and honked her nose.  What did she care?  At this point she was way beyond worrying about her dignity.

He reached behind him, grabbed a waste basket, and silently handed it to her.

He confused her.  Why be nice?  “Thanks.”

“Why do you want to leave?”

“I… I don’t want to leave!  But I…you…Summer…”

“You’re not Summer, and I never said you were.  I never thought you were.  Were you being truthful when you said you wouldn’t hit Alicia?”

“Yes!  It’s wrong!  My parents…”  She stopped and looked away from him.  “I made a promise to myself a long time ago.  To never hit a child.  I repeated that promise to your sister today.  I won’t do it!”

He stared at her for so long she began to fidget.  “Don’t you believe me?”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe you.”

“Oh. Then…you’ll let me stay?”

He inclined his head, but his eyes never left her face.

Oh, this is just so unfair. He sat propped on the side of his desk with ankles crossed, and hands in his pockets.  Although the clench of his jaw and the fire still blazing in his eyes belied his calm pose, he looked supremely in control of his emotions.

And her?  Her emotions were still spinning in the vortex initiated yesterday when she arrived at his door.  She’d cried more in the last day than she had in years.

Okay, that wasn’t true.  She’d done her share of crying a few months ago, but that had nothing to do with her family.  At least not directly.

“I’m not like them.”  Which one of us am I trying to convince?

“You’re not like who?”

“My family.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept up with the Superman, x-ray vision thing.  What was with the people in this house?  Every single one of them had looked at her with that spooky ‘I can read your mind,’ intensity.

“Did you talk to your parents this morning?”

M sucked in a breath and drew herself up.  “I talked to my mother.”

He watched her for a moment.  “And how did it go?  She must’ve been upset.”

A mantle of ice descended on her, freezing out all emotion.  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

She pushed herself up out of the chair.  “Anyway, I just thought I should tell you about what Summer did.  I think Alicia’s okay.  She seems like such a well adjusted little girl, considering what she’s been through, but maybe you should talk to her about it, and decide whether or not she needs any help with it.”

Jonathan’s jaw clenched.  “Oh, you can be sure I’ll be talking to her.  It’s a good thing Summer is dead, because she wouldn’t have liked dealing with me.  I’d have forgotten all my mother’s lessons on how to treat ladies.  Not that Summer was a lady by any stretch of the imagination.”

M cringed.  Stop taking everything he says about her so personally.  He’s talking about Summer, not you!

Jonathan reached out and grasped her bare shoulder.  “I’m sorry.  That was thoughtless.  All of it.”

I wonder if this is what a hot flash feels like.

Ice gave way to blistering heat.  Her breathing stilled, her heart took wings, and her tummy clenched.  And as if that wasn’t bad enough, her knee joints gave, and she nearly swayed toward him.

Please God, let me be reacting to some sort of bug I’ve picked up, not his touch.

But she couldn’t fool herself.  As his thumb began a slow, circuitous movement on her collarbone, she accepted—no, she didn’t accept, she acknowledged—the impact he had on her.  With nothing more than a simple touch he underscored the fact that sex influenced more than the body, because he tugged on sexual strings in her mind, her heart.

No, no, no!  This is richy rich.  Your boss.  Remember that!

She pulled away.  “It’s okay.  Um…I’ll go now.  Goodnight.”

As her fingers grasped the doorknob, he spoke again.  “Em…Ember?”

A hysterical laugh bubbled beneath the surface.  Ember!  What a perfect choice.  Because sure as death and taxes, the fire may have banked when I pulled away from him, but the remains still smoulder.

She shook her head but didn’t look back at him.

He sighed.  “Would you please tell me your name?”

Another shake of her head.  He already had enough to mock her about.  Why give him more ammunition?

“I’m sorry about this afternoon.  I know I hurt you somehow when I asked about the business you’re starting, but I didn’t mean to.  I did mean what I said about helping you.  Helping with start ups is part of what I do.  If you don’t have a business plan, I can assist with its preparation.  If you’ve already got one, I’d be happy to look over it for you.  No charge.”

Without releasing the doorknob, she turned back to look at him.  “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you offering to help?  You don’t know me, and we’re not friends, so what gives?”

He didn’t physically take a step back, but he somehow withdrew.  His eyes bore into hers for a moment before dropping to the floor.  He shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants, then looked back at her.  “I don’t know.”

And she could tell it bugged the hell out of him.

Something was going on between the two of them.  She knew it, and she knew he knew it.  Neither of them wanted it, neither of them liked it.  But it was there.

So much for believing sexual chemistry is nothing but a bunch of hocus pocus.  Here I am.  Your new poster child.

Oh, she’d been attracted to men before.  On all sorts of levels.  But she’d never—ever—felt this pull.  She’d never felt anything so complex, so amazing, so mysterious.

Her cognitive self shied away from him.  Urged her to remember he had the power to hurt her.  Her intuitive self, independent of all reasoning, whispered something else in her ear.  A siren’s call, telling her he’d provide a safe harbour, maybe even the home she’d looked for all these years.

Fortunately, her cognitive self stepped up and kicked little Miss Intuition’s butt.

“I don’t know either.  But thanks for the offer.”

This time he didn’t stop her from leaving the room.

Go to Installment 17

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Jonathan sat on the bench watching them walk toward him.

They still held hands and that relieved him.  Alicia had been strangely quiet around Em, something unnatural for his expressive little sister.

Neither of them were speaking, but they seemed—comfortable with each other.

As for him?  Em made him uncomfortable.  She made him downright squirrelly.

This day had quickly turned into a farce, with him losing his grip on his mind.  Watching her at the railing of the ferry had undone him in ways that scared him.  He could actually feel the tethers he kept on his control slipping.

She’d looked so alive with her head flung back and her golden blond hair lifting on the breeze.  So content in the moment.

What was it about her that called to him on levels he tried to keep buried?  She didn’t come close to fitting the profile of the stylish, poised woman he wanted at his side.

The woman walking toward him had dead straight hair with absolutely no style.  As far as he could tell, her makeup consisted of a hint of lip gloss and maybe a little liner around her eyes.  No primping, no pouffing.  And her clothes.  She didn’t look like the bag lady wannabe of yesterday, but her simple shorts and T-shirt screamed bargain brand.  Not the he had a problem with her simple tastes; it was just such a shocking difference to what he considered the norm.

He thought of Deirdre, a friend and client.  They’d known each other for years, but over the last few months had spent a lot of time together.  He was at the point of suggesting a change in their relationship.  Something more serious.  With a view to something more permanent.

He’d given the matter much consideration and felt that they were a good match.  Not because of some flighty, ephemeral feeling.  His father had approached relationships and look where it landed him.  No, Jonathan had made his choice based on logic and common sense.   Deirdre being beautiful and well dressed was simply a bonus.

But she’d never started a flash fire in him with just a look.

He’d never looked into her eyes and had all of his senses sharpen to the point of near pain.

He’d never seen a wounded look shadow those eyes and want to shift time and space so he could take it away.

He knew he’d hurt her.  But she had a way of making him forget himself, and he’d been about to reveal things he shared with no one. Fortunately, his brain had started functioning again and he’d turned the conversation back around to her and her venture.  Except he’d got carried away and started firing questions at her.  And when he’d realized she obviously didn’t have any kind of real plan in place, that she’s just moved across the country on a whim, he’d been appalled.

It was so contrary to what he believed in.  What he tried hard to live by.

Had he made a mistake in bringing her into their lives?  He tried hard to teach Alicia to lead with her head, not her heart.  He’d always tried to provide her with a counterpoint to their father’s way of making decisions.

What kind of influence would Em be on his little sister?  On him?

Chapter Five

They trucked into the house just before six, and Estelle came out to great them.

“So, little Miss, did you get to ride the ponies?”

“Yeah! Two times!”

“Excellent.  Where’s my hug?”

M watched as Estelle carefully bent down to hug Alicia.  As she slowly returned to an upright position, she looked at Jonathan and said, “Have you eaten?  I know you told me not to worry about dinner, but I could still whip something up for everyone.”

Jonathan walked over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “Thanks, but you didn’t have to wait around.  Why don’t you go on home?  We can order in pizza, or maybe Chinese.”

“But…”

“No buts.  You’ve known me my entire life, so you’re well aware I can look after myself.  I want you to go home and put your feet up.  Relax.  Promise?”

Estelle pretended to grumble at him, but the mischief in her eyes belied her tone.

A few minutes later, she had her things together and Jonathan showed her out the door.  Once he’d closed it behind her, he leaned back against it, a wrinkle marring normally smooth forehead.

As he heaved a sigh and pushed himself away from the door, M said, “You’re worried about her.”

He pushed a hand through his hair.  “Yeah.  I have extra help that comes in a few times during the week to give her a hand with the heavier work, but she won’t let me do anything else for her.  She says she can handle it.”

“She’s proud.”

“Yeah, well, she’s also like a parent.  The only one I have left.  Anyway, let’s figure out what we’re going to eat.”

Go to Installment 16

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M found herself struck by the need to laugh and cry at once.  Laugh at the fierceness with which this little girl tried to defend her big brother—okay, and the fact the letter L seemed to be missing from Alicia’s own personal alphabet.  And cry because this is what it should be like.  This is what she’d been missing in her life.  The love, the loyalty, the protection of family.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.  You’re right, I shouldn’t yell.  Sometimes grown ups forget the very things they try to teach kids.  Kinda crazy, isn’t it?”

“Uh huh.  Daddy and Jonny awways to’d me I’m not ‘upposed to yewh at peopoh, but sometimes they did it.”

“How about we all make a promise, okay?  We’ll all try hard not to yell at each other, and…,” M skewered Jonathan with a look, “We will try hard not to do are say things that makes somebody want to yell.  Does that sound fair?”

Jonathan, who’d been watching the exchange in silence, finally spoke.  “I think that sounds like a good idea, don’t you, kiddo?”

Now free of the pony, she skipped over to Jonathan.  “Uh huh.  Nobody can yewh.”  She cast a stern look at M.  “If you do, Jonny gets to give you a spanking.”

Oh honey, why?  Why did you have to paint such a picture in my mind?

M silently cursed her fair skin as she felt heat rise in her cheeks and knew it would be impossible for him to miss.

And like a fool, instead of turning away from him, she looked up at him.

And the heat spread.

Damn it, she didn’t even like him, and knew that even if he trusted her with his sister, he found her wanting in other ways.

Yet the innocent remark of a child stoked something in both of them.  The fire in his eyes left no doubt.  She wasn’t the only feeling this sudden breathless intensity.

For a moment, everything else faded away, and they were just two people lost in each other’s eyes, sharing a dialogue where words were redundant.  Asking questions, avoiding answers, until both of them had to look away to escape being sucked into something they both knew they shunned on the cognitive level.

His cell phone rang.

Thank God.  A distraction.

He looked at his call display, and sighed.  “I’m sorry, I was hoping this wouldn’t happen, but I’m going to have to take this call, and it could be a while.  Can you two amuse each other for the time being?”

M looked at Alicia.  “Whadya say, partner?  Shall we go find an ice cream cone?”

Alicia looked at her brother.

Jonathan squatted down.  “It’s okay. You go with Em, and when you come back I’ll be waiting on that bench over there, okay?”

She looked at the bench, looked at M, then back at her brother.  “For reow?”

He nodded.  “For real.  I’ll be here.”

“’Kay.”

M found herself surprised—and something else she couldn’t name—when Alicia took the hand she offered.

They set off together, both silent, both seemingly content in their silence.

The fact that Alicia seemed to be thawing towards her relieved her more than she cared to admit.  The frozen treatment would have made life difficult.  Not to mention Jonathan could very well have decided to axe the deal if Alicia didn’t like her.

They were eating their soft ice cream cones, on their way back to Jonathan, when Alicia stumbled and lost hold of her treat.

Cold ice cream landed on M’s foot, and she gasped at the shock.

Alicia froze.  Then she hunched her shoulders and backed up a step.  “I’m sorry.  It was an accident.”

Huge brown eyes stared up at M.  “Are you going to hit me?”

Oh God.  Oh God, oh God, oh God.  No, no, no.

She’d been afraid of this.

M closed her eyes, threw out a brief, but desperate prayer, begging for the guidance to deal with this.

She opened her eyes and looked at Alicia.  “No, I am not going to hit you.  Not now, not ever.”

She tried to grin when what she wanted to do was scream.

“But you know, sweetie, this is cold and sticky.  And it’s oozing between my toes, and feels yucky.  Could you help me wash it off?”

Alicia treated her to the same contemplative look she’d given her earlier.  “You promise you won’t hit me?”

M crossed her heart.  “Cross my heart.”

Another moment of silence, then, “’Kay.”

Once in the washroom, M sat Alicia up on the counter.  “Tell you what.  I’m going to take my shoe off, then stick my foot in the sink.  Can you wash it off for me?”

“’Kay.”

She kept Alicia up on the counter once her foot was shod and back on the floor.  “Alicia, I want to talk to you for a minute, and I want you to be honest with me, okay?”

A nod.

M swallowed.  Hard.  “Did Summer hit you?”

No answer.

“Alicia?”

“Wioh you be mad at me?”

“No.  I’ll be mad at Summer, not you.  Did she ever hit you?”

A nod.

Oh God.  When will it end? She’d promised herself that she’d never again apologize for her family, and how many times had she wanted—needed—to in the last few days?

She gently cupped Alicia’s cheeks and kissed her on the forehead.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry.  Summer should never have hit you.  Didn’t you tell your daddy or Jonny about it?”

Alicia slowly swung her head from side to side.  “She said she’d hit me more if I to’d them.  She said she’d hurt Daddy too.”

Her chin dropped to her chest and M had to strain to hear the rest of her words.  “I never to’d no one, but she hurt Daddy anyway.”

I am not the product of my environment.  I am not the product of my environment.  Even if Summer was, I am not!

“I promised I’d never hit you.  Will you promise me something?”

“What?”

She picked Alicia up, intending to set her on the floor, but instead held her, hugged her.  “I want you to promise not to keep secrets from Jonny.  If someone hurts you, or makes you scared, promise me you’ll run as fast as you can and tell Jonny.  Even if someone says something bad will happen, okay?”

“Even if it’s you?”

M squeezed her eyes, desperately trying to contain her tears.  “Yes.  Even if it’s me.”

“’Kay.”

The tears leaked through when she felt small arms wrap around her neck.

Go to Installment 15

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After he paid for ride passes, she asked, “Do you need to pick up a brochure and a map?”

“Nope.  We know this place like the backs of our hands, don’t we, Allioop?  Which way from here?”

“This way!”  She pulled on his hand, leading them to the left, along a pathway that hugged a channel of water separating Centre Island and another small island.

The amusement park itself proved to be charming—except for the faint odour emanating from the petting zoo at the far end.

“All right, kiddo.  This is your show.  What do you want to do first?”

Alicia didn’t hesitate.  Bouncing up and down in front of her brother, she bellowed, “Pony ride!  Pony ride!”

M winced.  She hated to admit it, but she did feel a measure of satisfaction at the return of the loud kid of yesterday.  If, one day, Alicia made M’s ears bleed, she’d rather the noise stemmed from joy, not some form of angst.

Moments later he had her astride, and he headed back to stand beside M.  She couldn’t control the surge of alarm that shot through her.

“Ah, shouldn’t you stay beside her?  What if she falls?”

He started to laugh when he saw her expression, but suddenly his look of merriment changed to one of reflection.

He tilted his head.  “You really are worried about her, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes.  She could hurt herself if she falls.”

“Take a look at her.  Look closely.  Does she seem afraid?  Unsure?”

M took a deep breath and concentrated on Alicia.  “Um, no.  I guess not.”

“She’s fine, and she doesn’t need me hovering.  My father and I had her on a horse a year ago.  She’s a natural.  The pony is nothing.  Are you afraid of horses?  Or ponies?”

She let her breath out and shrugged.  “I wouldn’t know.  I’ve never been around them.”

As a child, some of her schoolmates rode or took lessons, but not her.  She’d been lucky if her parents put food on the table; forget about forking over the cash to pay for riding lessons.

“Then we’ll need to make sure we change that.  Alicia has been begging for her own horse for a year now, but it’s not going to happen.  At least not when we live in the city and would have to stable it elsewhere.  But we’ll go riding sometime again in the fall, and you can come along.”

She decided to ignore the last comment.  “Are you thinking about moving out of the city?”

“I think about it occasionally.  I have some ideas…”

He shut his mouth, visibly drew himself in, and changed the subject.  “What about you?  Why did you move here?”

Keeping her eyes on Alicia, she answered.  “I want to start my own business here.  I needed a place to stay, and Summer had told me I could stay with her—maybe—if I ever needed a place.  I quit my job, sold my car for some extra capital, and moved out here.”

“What kind of business?”

She glanced down at the ground, shrugged, then returned her gaze to the pony rides.  “I’m a chef.  I’d love to open my own restaurant, but…”

“But?  I guess you know how difficult the restaurant business is.  I’m a CA, and some of my clients are restaurateurs.  The statistics for new restaurants are frightening, aren’t they?”

“What statistics?”  Damn, she hadn’t meant to voice her question.  But as her mind grappled with his disclosure of being a Chartered Accountant, it slipped out.

Her first impression of him yesterday had been uptight and humourless.  Dry and boring.  The Accountant news fit that impression.  But the more time she spent around him, the more she realized something quite different lurked underneath.

His voice brought her back to the present.  “There’s a high failure rate for new restaurants.  A third of them go out of business in the first year, and about seventy percent of them in the first five.  What about your financing? Do you have it nailed down?  What bank are you working with?  I’d be happy to look over your business plan.”  He spread his hands.  “This is what I do.”

He was obviously in his element, firing all those questions at her.  But the more he talked, the more inept he made her feel.

A business plan?  Well, she had an idea—kinda—in her head, but she had a feeling he meant something far different.  And he wanted to know if she had bank financing?

Thankful for the excuse watching Alicia provided, she didn’t look at him.  Sticking her hands in her pockets, she said, “Ah, no.  That wasn’t where I was going when I said but.  I’d like to open a restaurant, but um…I’m thinking of starting a catering business instead.”

“Ah, that’s a good choice.  You don’t need huge start up costs, and there’s certainly a demand.  So, what plans do you have in place?”

She was evil and deserved to be struck by lightning, but she started to wish Alicia would have some sort of accident.  Anything to stop him from asking questions she couldn’t answer.

“Um, plans?”

Unfortunately, she turned her gaze away from Alicia to him.  Her timing sucked, since at that moment a look of—what?  Disbelief?  Stupefaction? Disgust?—crossed his face.

She’d been mocked and looked down at all her life, but she could tell you, it never got any easier to take.

“You do have some sort of plan in place, don’t you?”

She angled her chin upward.  “Of course.  Just nothing…concrete.”

He narrowed his eyes, as if he were trying to pierce through skin and bone with his gaze in order to see her thoughts beneath.

Yeah, right. She gave herself a mental shake.  He isn’t Superman, and he doesn’t have x-ray vision.

“Okay, so you’re still in the early planning phase.  What have you got in place so far?  I know caterers do a lot of their work onsite, but they also have a lot of prep work they do elsewhere.  Have you rented kitchen space somewhere?  Or are you setting up with a partner who has the space in their home?  And what about transportation?  Do you have a van or truck of some sort for hauling supplies?”

M thought of the promise she’d made to herself after calling her parents earlier.  She’d refused to allow her own mother get her down.  The same held true for this—stranger.  She might not have her own little brain trust going on, but she wasn’t lazy or stupid.  She had goals and motivation.  She would work hard and achieve those goals.

She clenched her fists and got right up in his face.  “None of this is your business, is it?  You hired me to do a job, so keep your questions centred on that.  Will I let my personal business interfere with Alicia?  No.  That’s all you need to know.  You don’t need to know anything about my business, nor do I need to tell you.  Got it?”

“Yes.  I’m…”

“Jonny?”

They both swung toward Alicia.  Her face expressed the distress of her voice as her gaze bounced back and forth between Jonathan and M, before lighting on M.

She sat astride, waiting her turn as the attendants helped the other children off their ponies.  Unfortunately, her ride had come to a halt not far from where they stood, and she’d obviously been privy to M’s outburst.

Propping her hands on her hips, she glared at M.  “Don’t you yewh at my Jonny!”

Go to Installment 14

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Chapter Four

It took a while to find a parking spot.

“I didn’t even think to check and see if the Blue Jays had a home game today.  If I had’ve known the boys of summer were in town, I might’ve vetoed this particular trip.”

M grinned back at Alicia.  “We’re not worried about a bunch of baseball fans, are we sweetie?  We’ll find a spot to park eventually.”

Alicia smiled back, but didn’t say anything.

They did find a spot, and she managed to back in without causing any damage to the Beemer.

Jonathan looked at his watch.  “Well ladies, we have a choice.  Run to the docks to catch the ferry, or stroll and wait when we get there.  What’s your vote?”

M would rather not run, but decided she’d defer to Alicia.  “What do you think?  Walk or run?”

Alicia scrunched up her face, obviously deciding deep thought was necessary before answering.  She looked up at her brother.  “Will you carry me if we run?”

He made a funny face and shook his head.  “No way.  Run or walk, but you’re using those two little legs of yours.”

“Okay.  Let’s run!”

Ten minutes later M stood on the deck of the ferry, thankful for the slight, but cooling, breeze.

The afternoon had barely begun, and surprisingly, she was enjoying herself.

She’d been honest when she told Jonathan she didn’t know a lot about children.  None of her friends had any so she could count the amount of time she’d spent in the presence of a child in minutes.

She had a feeling Alicia would prove to be a source of endless amusement.  She definitely got a kick out of watching her trying to play Jonathan.

Her level of confidence amazed M.  Despite losing her father—and who knew what had happened to her real mother—she appeared to be a well adjusted little girl.

M couldn’t remember much of her own childhood.  After being involved in too many conversations where friends talked about things that happened in grade one, or friends they had when they were small, she’d done some research.  Why could they recall these events when she couldn’t?

There could be some merit to the whole “ignorance is bliss” concept.  Reading about meta-memory, and learning how children who are neglected and/or abused often don’t remember the early years hadn’t comforted her.  It had only widened the chasm between us and them.  A chasm she resented and constantly tried to bridge.

In one way or another she’d been odd man out her entire life.  She hated it.  It seemed as though the harder she tried to fit in, the more she became aware of her dissimilarities.

Summer had tried to overcome their past by using her looks.  Her face had gained her entrance into another lifestyle.  Unfortunately, Summer’s choices had led her into a life just as immoral and corrupt as their parent’s, it just looked better on the outside.  Money could do that.  How she’d ended up married to William Davenport remained a mystery.

M, not having her sister’s looks, and an aching need to be accepted by what she considered to be “normal” people, had gone a different route.

She sighed and forced her inward gaze out.

It was a beautiful day to be on the Lake, and she’d never made this particular trip.   Although Toronto’s small, secondary airport, known locally as the Island Airport, blocked her view of Ontario Place to the west, she had an unrestricted view across the water to the east.  In front of her, to the south, their destination drew closer.

Toronto’s small clutch of islands offered something for everyone.  From the clothing optional beach on Hanlan’s Island to the children’s amusement park and petting zoo on Centre Island, and a host of interesting options in between.

Surrounded by the sounds of summer, M suddenly felt a sense of freedom she hadn’t experienced in eons.

She closed her eyes and—revelled.  The screech of gulls overhead and the boisterous laughter of children came together in a cacophony that should have unsettled her.

It made her smile.

From the shore, the scent of barbeque wafted on the air and battled with the occasional nasty odour spit up by the Lake.

She tilted her head back and inhaled.

She felt gloriously alive.

She’d come to Toronto with great hopes.  Those hopes had dimmed—nearly expired—when she learned of her sister’s death, but standing here, they rekindled.  She felt as though she stood on the cusp of something great, something momentous, and she vowed to hold on to that feeling.

Jonathan’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.  “You’re awfully quiet.”

M looked at them.  He had Alicia perched on his shoulders, her chubby little legs wrapped like a vice around his neck, and pudgy fists clutching his hair.

The look on her face attested to her total confidence in him.  M suspected that even if he hadn’t had a hold of his sister’s knees, keeping her steady, a carefree expression would still be plastered across her face.

They looked like father and daughter, not brother and sister.  Not in appearance.  Something much deeper.

“You two are very close.  She’s lucky to have you.”

“I think we’re both lucky.  We’ve managed to keep each other sane the last few months.”

M hung her head and looked at her toes.  “I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m fairly confident you shouldn’t be apologizing for your sister’s actions.”

She sighed.  “You’re right, but still…”

“I know.  It’s okay.  Let’s just focus on having fun this afternoon, all right?  I really want you and Alicia to get along.”

M looked up and caught Alicia looking at her with an expression far beyond her years.  Reminiscent of the way Mrs. Brickman had gazed discerningly at her.

She smiled up at her, hoping what they said about kids and dogs was true.  That they were good judges of character.   “I’ll try my best to get along with you, Alicia.  Can you do the same with me?  And if I do something wrong, ‘cause I really don’t know that much about kids, will you tell me?”

She received a cautious nod in answer.

“Good.  And remember, you promised me a show and tell while we’re here.”

This time Alicia grinned and said, “Okay.”

A whole word!  Progress.

Moments later the ferry bumped into the dock and they waited their turn to disembark.

Looking around her, M said, “I’m surprised there isn’t a bigger crowd here.”

“The Ex is open, so my guess is everyone is there.  Thankfully, Alicia is still content with Centreville.”

That made sense.  The Canadian National Exhibition—or The Ex—started late August and ran until Labour Day.  It had marked the end of summer for kids and families in central Ontario for decades.  And while it didn’t attract as many people as it had in its glory days, the fairgrounds, with a huge midway surrounded by shows and exhibits, were still a major attraction.

You couldn’t compare it with Centreville, a mere kiddie park.

Go to Installment 13

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Jonathan led the way out to the garage.  The four car garage.  “I’ll have to get her car seat out of my car and put it in the Beemer for now.  I’ll pick up another one tomorrow, so you have a permanent one here.”

M glanced at Alicia before asking, “Why didn’t Summer have a car seat in here already?”

“Because Summer…ah, because Summer liked the limo, remember?”

Judging from the look that crossed her face he didn’t need to explain that Summer had done her best to pretend that Alicia didn’t exist.  Playing mommy hadn’t been her thing.

A few minutes later, after he deftly buckled his sister into her car seat, M pulled out of the garage.

“Do you need directions?” Jonathan asked.

“Um, I’m pretty sure it’s a straight run down to the lake from here, right?”

“Right.  I’ll guide you out of the neighbourhood.  Once we get onto Avenue Rd, stay on it.  It’ll turn into University, then York, then we hit Queen’s Quay.  We’ll find somewhere to park along the Quay, then get the ferry.”

“How often does the ferry run in the summer?”

“Every half hour, so we shouldn’t have to wait too long when we get there.”

He settled back in his seat and tried not to be too obvious as he monitored her driving.  She was a prickly one, and he didn’t want to fire her ire again.  To the extent possible, he’d like this to be a relaxed afternoon.  Alicia needed a chance to get to know her, and he wanted to see how Em managed her.

His sister had been surprisingly reticent with Em, and that unsettled him a bit.  Generally, she bubbled with enthusiasm for new people and new things.  Sure, the last few months had been hard on her, hard on them both, but her reaction to Em — Emmanuela? — puzzled him.  Alicia and Summer had never been close, largely due to the fact that Summer had kept her at arm’s length, but why shy away from her sister like that?

He sighed.  This wasn’t turning out like he’d expected.  Somehow Em continually slipped under his guard.  He refused to be like his father, so easily swayed by a pretty face.  Okay, that was a little unfair and made his father sound shallow.  His father had spent the years after his mother’s death looking to replace — or at least come close to — the love they had shared.

Jonathan respected the bond that had held his parents together.  He wasn’t so lacking in emotion and common sense that he couldn’t recognize and accept the fact true love existed.

It was the way some went about finding it that he questioned.  People today were looking for love in the oddest places, and as far as he was concerned, they needed to rethink that.  He didn’t need to look too far to see what a bad match could mean.  Sure, people went into relationships with the best of intentions — for the most part — but the divorce rate was staggering.  Obviously, couples were doing something very wrong.  Right from the get go, in his opinion.

He planned to follow in his parent’s footsteps.  It was a rational, logical thing to do.  It had worked for them and it would work for him.  If — when — he married, it would be permanent.  For his sake, for his sister’s sake, and for the sake of any children he would have.

Jonathan returned his attention to her.  She handled the car competently, completely at ease.  He noticed the way she occasionally glanced back at Alicia.  She said she didn’t know much about children, but he’d bet she was a natural caregiver.

“When I pick up the car seat tomorrow, I’ll get you one of those little add-on mirrors for your rear-view mirror.”

She wrinkled her brow.  “Add-on mirror?”

“Yes.  You clip it on to the rear view and adjust it so you can see the back seat.  That way when you want to see what she’s up to, you don’t need to turn around.  I have one in my car.”

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Alicia.  “That sounds like a good idea.  I’ll be able to see you, and you can see me too.”  She let her eyes drift over him before returning them to the road.  “Thanks.”

He mentally patted himself on the back.  Yes, this was a good idea.  He had few misgivings that things would work out between Em and Alicia.  Whatever doubts he had — and he was honest enough with himself to admit he had them — were about how she would ultimately impact him.

As a teenager he’d plotted a course for his life.  A life where he kept all aspects of his personality resembling his father locked away in a vault.  He knew — beyond a shadow of a doubt — that his natural tendency was toward right-brain thinking and reactions.  After two decades of forcing his left-brain into dominance he’d become complacent.

He restrained a sour laugh.  Both intuition and impulse — right-brained characterises — had played a large part in his decision to hire her.

No matter how much he’d like to ignore it, a niggle of fear plagued him.  He had a premonition that Em — Ember? — could shake up a life he’d neatly stirred.  That she could force the spontaneous, touchy feely side of him out of hiding, and make him forget that he preferred to be rational, logical, analytical.

Go to Installment 12

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Jonathan and Alicia found her in the kitchen just after one o’clock.  She’d gone out, had a late breakfast, and picked up a few groceries.  She was putting the last of them away when they walked into the kitchen.

M looked at the two of them as they stood there holding hands.  She’d been too distraught yesterday to take a good look at Alicia.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.  You weren’t too distraught to notice her brother.

Despite the fact she was trying to hide behind her brother’s leg, M could see enough to know Alicia was a gorgeous child.  She shook her head.  Some people had it all.

That wasn’t fair.  Alicia may be beautiful and come from money, but she was an orphan.  No one could say she had it all.

She was about five years old, with dark hair and dark eyes.  Dressed in a denim skort, pink t-shirt, and matching pink sport sandals, she peeked at M and then dropped her eyes and let her lashes fan her cheeks.

M wondered if Jonathan had dressed her, and if he was the one to put her hair up in those two cute pony tails that stood straight up on top of her head

Not too sure how to act, and hating it, she said, “Hi, Alicia.  My name is M.  We met yesterday, remember?”

Alicia let go of her brother’s hand and clutched his leg instead.  Hugging tight, she bobbed her head at M.

Who was this little girl?  The shy act was so contrary to her behaviour of yesterday, it confused M.

She looked at Jonathan and raised her brows.

He laid his palm on the top of his sister’s head and leaned back a bit so he could see her face.  “Hey, Allioop.  Say hello to Em.  Remember I told you about her yesterday?  She’s Summer’s sister, and she’s going to stay with us.”

Allioop? So maybe Mr Stuffy, I Don’t Like Derivatives wasn’t so stuffy after all.

While that ran through M’s mind Alicia sunk farther into her brother’s side.  A horrible speculation blindsided her and she thought, no.  It couldn’t be.

She put her hands on her thighs and squatted in front of Alicia.  “Tell you what.  Let’s just get to know each other first, okay?”

Alicia nodded.

“Good.  Your brother said we were going to Centre Island.  I’ve never been there.  Have you been there before?”

Another nod.

“Then maybe, if you feel like it, you can do a little show…,” she bugged her eyes out, “…and tell.”  This time she used her hands against her mouth and imitated big flappy lips.

That got her a little more than a nod.  Alicia grinned, and for just a moment, sparkling brown eyes met M’s.

Jonathan looked at her as she stood up.  “You ready to go?”

She looked down at what she wore and decided it would have to do.  White shorts and a red tank-top.  After all, it was August in Toronto, which, when translated, meant stinking hot.  If you were going to be outside for any length of time, you dressed accordingly.  Both Jonathan and Alicia wore shorts as well.

“Um, yes.  But I just remembered something.  I mailed all my stuff from Winnipeg.  It should arrive here sometime today.”

“Don’t worry.  Mrs Brickman will sign for it if we’re not back yet.”

She grabbed her fanny pack off the counter.  “Then I’m ready when you are.”

Jonathan leaned down and picked up his sister.  “What about you, bobblehead?  Are you ready to go?”

Alicia grinned at him, obviously safe and comfortable in her brother’s arms.  “Uh-huh.”

How could one body host two such disparate personalities?  There was no comparing the man that stood before her now, and the man of yesterday.  Would the real Mr Jonathan Davenport please stand up?

He dug into his pocket and handed M a set of keys.

“Here, keys to the house and car.  Why don’t you drive.”

Huh.  Not a request.  More like a command.

She didn’t take the keys.  Arching a brow, she said, “Should I treat this like a road test?”

He gave her look for look.  “Yes.  I’m assuming your licence isn’t under suspension.  What about your driving record?  Is it clean?”

She couldn’t resist.  Utterly deadpan, she said, “You’re actually assuming a lot more than that.  You’re assuming I have a driver’s licence.  Who said I could drive?”

A look of shock crossed his face, and he snatched the keys away.   “What?  You said you could drive.”

M shook her head.  “No, I didn’t.  You told me I could use Summer’s Beemer, and I asked you how you knew I didn’t have a car.  Whether or not I could actually drive wasn’t discussed.”

While letting Alicia down to the floor with one arm, he dragged his other hand through his hair.  “Well, this isn’t going to work.  I can’t leave Alicia here all the time with someone who doesn’t drive.  Mrs Brickman can’t be doing it.”

She rolled her eyes.  Like there weren’t people all over the city, all over the world, that had kids but didn’t have cars.  “People that don’t own cars can get around, you know.”

Those beast of prey eyes glittered.  “I know that.  But my little sister doesn’t have to be one of them.”

She heaved a sigh and put out her hand.  “Give me the keys.  Of course I can drive.  But let this be a lesson to you.  You don’t know me, so don’t go around making assumptions about me.”

He didn’t hand the keys back.  “What?  I’m supposed to believe you this time?”

M planted her hands on her hips and thrust out her chin.  “Yes.  You are supposed to believe me.  I am not a liar.  I’m not a cheat.  And I’m not…”  She stumbled to a halt, her breath caught, and then she resumed.  “I’m not a thief.  I told you I can drive, and I can.  I never told you I couldn’t, I just questioned it.  If you want to call the Ministry of Transportation and get an abstract of my driving record, you go right ahead.”

Alicia tugged on his hand, trying to get him moving, but Jonathan held his ground and looked down at Em.  Something bigger was going on here, and he didn’t have a clue as to what it was.  Had someone doubted her honesty?  Her character?  As far as he was concerned she screamed trustworthy, so that didn’t make much sense to him.

Palm up, he stretched out his hand, offering her the keys.  “I believe you.  Now, would you like to drive us, or would you like me to?”

She hesitated, searched his eyes, then took the keys.  “Thank you.  I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, it’s just…” She lowered her eyes and gave her head a little shake.  Sighed.  “I’d like to drive.”

“Good.  Let’s get this show on the road, then.”

Go to Installment 11

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Thanks to Nan Donahue for sharing one of her manuscripts.