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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After a two hour plane ride, the last thing I wanted to do was stand in line waiting for a rental car. I tapped my foot and peered around the man in front of me. How long could it take one person to rent a car?

I adjusted my super size sunglasses and tried to determine if I should just take them off. It didn’t seem as if anyone was going to go berserk trying to get my autograph. I reached up to fold them off my face, and noticed a couple standing beside the counter staring at me, and doing a bad job of trying to pretend they weren’t.

“Why would Casey Brand be renting a car here?” the man whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

I heard his companion’s muffled reply, but I ignored both of them.

The glasses stayed on. Not only did I not want to confirm their suspicion about who I am, but my upper cheek and eye were a rainbow of yellow, green and purple. It wasn’t pretty.

I play police Detective Casey Brand on the popular Hard Streets TV show, filmed in New York City. I’m not a lead character, but I had enough speaking parts to be recognized quite often. Last week, on the way to work, I was mugged, requiring stitches and the assistance of a real police detective, who bore an uncanny resemblance to my ex-husband. I asked for some time off, and was headed home to regroup.

I loved acting, but at thirty-five I wasn’t a rousing success, and at this stage probably never would be. I missed the quiet of my home town. I was entering the “what if” stage of life.

I finally got my turn at the rental counter, and took the keys from the rental agent, who luckily didn’t recognize me. I drove the hour home to Fairmount, where I wouldn’t be treated with any special attention. They expected success from their natives. Like the legendary movie star, James Dean, and Garfield cartoonist Jim Davis, to name a couple.

I pulled into my parents’ driveway. They were away, so I would have the place to myself. I took my suitcase into my childhood bedroom, which still looked like a shrine to Barbie and friends. Grabbing a Coke from the kitchen, I settled into my father’s favorite chair, and picked up the News-Sun. “Police Looking For Suspect In Missing James Dean Headstone” screamed the headline.

I thought of my great-aunt Felicity, still living in the house she grew up in. She had gone to high school with James Dean, and for most of high school they had dated. He took her to the prom, so Aunt Felicity is sort of a celebrity-by-association. She still has his high school ring and sweater with his letter for basketball on it.

She claims she gave birth to his child back in 1948, when she was seventeen. But even James Dean’s cousin, who still lives nearby, can’t back her story up. Since no one has ever seen this child, or heard from it, the family takes it with a grain of salt.

Every September 30th, the anniversary of his death, Aunt Felicity goes to Jimmy’s grave and places flowers on it.

I put the paper down, took the last swallow of Coke, and walked the few blocks to her house.

She was sitting on her porch, gently rocking in her swing, a pitcher of lemonade beside her. “Jane! You’re home. Good Lord child, what happened to your face? Part of it’s blue and yellow. Or is that green?” She patted the space beside her. “Tell me.”

“What you need is a good self-defense class,” she commented, when I told her about being mugged. “You should take lessons from your Kevin Brogan. He teaches women how to defend themselves. I took his class myself.”

Kevin Brogan, my ex-husband. We had gotten married right after we turned eighteen. It had lasted until I graduated with a bachelor’s degree in English and Drama, and then left him on his own to fight crime in Fairmount, while I fled to the Big Apple in search of fame and fortune. Back then it seemed like the right decision. Did I want to see him again? No. I’d managed to avoid him every time I visited. Well, maybe just saying hi wouldn’t be so bad.

“Is he married?” I asked, realizing I wasn’t sure I wanted to know

“Jimmy? No, he never got married.” My aunt dabbed at her eyes.

“No, I mean Kevin.”

“You still have a thing for him, don’t you?” My aunt’s blue eyes twinkled. “No, he isn’t married. I think he still has a thing for you, too. Like me and James Byron Dean.  I could never marry anyone but him. Remember him in Giant?”  Her eyes grew dreamy.

“I remember, Aunt Felicity,” I answered.  Thanks to her, I knew the entire dialogue from Giant and  East of Eden. Maybe that’s why I was bitten by the acting bug.

“I see Jimmy’s headstone is missing. Are you okay? The whole town must be upset.”

She waved a hand at me. “Oh, it’ll show up. It’s been taken before. Kevin’s at the Y.  You should look into his class.  A woman can’t be too careful. He’s good. The women love him. He’s got more of them than he can handle.”

I bet he does, I thought. I kissed my aunt goodbye, promising to come back later to make dinner for both of us, and left her with her memories of James Dean.

I planned to drive home, take a bath, put on some of my father’s Dean Martin records, and relax before I had to do shopping. The car I was driving had other ideas. Five minutes later, I found myself in the YMCA parking lot. My legs trembled as I walked up to the front desk.

“I’m looking for Kevin Brogan,” I told the receptionist.

“You’re lucky. He’s in the middle of a class now in the gym annex. I’m the only one here and I can’t leave the desk. Can you find it yourself?”

I assured her I could.

Kevin was in front of a room of about thirty women. They were so focused on him, they didn’t even notice me until Kevin did, about thirty seconds later.

“Take a five-minute break, ladies.” He trotted over to me, and the women started whispering. A couple of them waved to me. I waved back.

“Jane. My God, I thought I was seeing things. How are you? What on earth happened?” He gently touched the side of my cheek, and I leaned into his hand. The whispering behind him increased.

His voice hadn’t changed. Neither had the shiny dark brown hair—all of which he still had—and almost black eyes with their impossibly long lashes. His body was even more buff than it had been when we were together. I guess police work agreed with him.

I swallowed. “Hi, Kevin. I was mugged. Aunt Felicity suggested I look into self-defense.”

“The class has been going on for about three weeks already, but I can fit you in. It would have to be privately, though. As you can see, I can’t squeeze another body in here.”

“That would be okay. I’m only going to be here for a week or so.  Can I just take a couple of lessons?”  I couldn’t look away from the way his black t-shirt molded to his chest. I had the urge to lay my head against it.  I could see why women flocked to him.

“Sure. I’ll call you tonight. Where are you staying?”

“At my parents’. 674-”

“-1811,” Kevin finished for me. “I used to call you every night in our junior and senior year in high school. Remember?” His hand was caressing my cheek.

I did. I couldn’t believe he still remembered the number. I smiled all the way back to my car, clutching the piece of paper on which he had written his number as if it were the Holy Grail, or some such thing.  I stopped at Joe’s IGA, the only grocery store in town, and picked up items for dinner.

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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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“Tracy, this is absolutely beautiful,” Dawn said, caressing the large agate stone with her fingertip. The vintage sterling silver bangle surrounded her wrist with elegance and class. “You’re too good to me.”

“I’m glad you like it. There were so many to choose from. They make them right there on the island.”

Dawn stood and leaned over the cafe table to give her best friend a hug. “I more than like it. I love it.” She returned to her seat.

“You have to plan to accompany me next year, Dawn. You’re a workaholic. So far you’ve missed Jamaica, Costa Rica, and now Mexico. You’re in the prime of your life. Enjoy it while you can.”

“I know, I know. You’re right on all points, but I want to hear about your trip. Were there any good-looking guys in Baja?”

Tracy picked up a napkin and fanned herself. “Honey, my eyeballs are sore from ogling. I feel like Stella. I’m ready to get my groove back.”

Dawn admired her friend’s crazy sense of humor, but her heavy-laden heart wouldn’t allow her the luxury of laughing. If Tracy ever found out who she was getting her groove on with, things could get ugly. Giving Tracy a weak smile, Dawn took a sip of cranberry iced tea.

“Next month, I’m going to have a pool party. I want to meet this mystery friend of yours,” Tracy said, eyeing her intently.  ”He sounds interesting.”

“I…I wouldn’t exactly call him a mystery. We both have busy schedules.”

Tracy took her wallet from her purse. “Well, mark your calendar. No excuses. I want to meet him.”

“Put that away. I’ll take care of the tab.” Thankful for the distraction, Dawn placed several bills on the table. She had to find a way to tell Tracy the truth. The dishonesty tore her apart, and Tracy didn’t deserve it.

Tracy leaned forward, her hazel eyes full of mischief. “I’m not letting you off the hook. Are you going to bring this mysterious David to the party?”

“Maybe, but don’t expect me to wear a bathing suit. I have to lose a few pounds.”

“Dawn, please. Men are all over you everywhere we go.  Your beautiful face and voluptuous body are to die for.  Besides, wearing a size fourteen is average these days.”

“Humph, if you say so. Why are you a size six, if fourteen is so popular?”

Tracy laughed. “Talk to God about that. I wish I had a bigger rear to strut. Seriously, I think you’re gorgeous. I also think you need to take more time out to enjoy yourself.”

If she only knew how much fun I’ve had lately. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good, I’d better get going. I’m picking Ashley up early from the sitter. I promised to take her for ice cream. Would you like to join us? She hasn’t seen her godmother in almost two weeks.”

“No, I can’t.  I have to finish up at the office.  Would it be okay if I picked her up on Saturday for a couple of hours?”

Tracy stood, smoothing her tight black dress over her soft curves. “Of course, that’ll give me time to run a few errands.”

Dawn’s insides flip-flopped.  She couldn’t let this go any farther. “Um, Tracy, can we talk a few minutes before you leave?”

Tracy slid back into her chair. “Sure. What’s up?”

A hush fell over the small cafe, as if anticipating her words.  Dawn played with the edges of a napkin before lifting her gaze to Tracy’s.  She took a trembling breath.  ”The mystery guy I’m seeing isn’t someone I just met. I’ve known him for years.  We work together, and I introduced the two of you ten years ago.”

The light in Tracy’s eyes dimmed to a haunted, fearful look. “Wha…what?” She shook her head. “Please, Dawn, don’t say what I think you’re about to say. Please don’t.”

“We both fought it as long as we could because of the love we have for you.”

“Are you telling me you’re messing around with my Kevin? With Ashley’s father?”

“I didn’t know you still referred to him as your Kevin. You’ve been divorced eighteen months. We started dating six months ago.”

A lone tear slid down Tracy’s cheek. She laughed harshly. “Six months, and you never said a word. Not one word.”

“I wanted to, but I didn’t know how you’d react.”

“How did you think I would react? I loved Kevin. Although we grew apart during our marriage, I still loved him. We have a daughter. You know how painful the divorce was for me.  Even now, I still care deeply for him. How could you do this?”
“I’m sorry, Tracy. I wish it was anyone but Kevin. Although he and I have been good friends for many years, we never expected to fall in love.”

“In … love? You’re in love?” Tracy stumbled to her feet. “You were my best friend.  I trusted you with my life.  I’ve told you precious secrets.  We’ve cried together and what did it all mean?  I would have given you the shirt off my back.”  Crying, she snatched the tablecloth from the table and all the dishes along with it.  ”The two of you deserve each other. You’re nothing but a fat, trifling hussy.”  She ran from the restaurant.

The restaurant manager rushed to the table, stepping over the broken dishes. “Ma’am, someone is going to have to pay for this.”

Through blinding tears, Dawn handed him a wad of bills and her business card before making her way to the parking lot.  She slumped over the steering wheel and cried until her eyes were dry.

*****

Dawn tightened the belt on her robe as she sprinted across the room to answer the door. Please let it be Tracy. She’d tried calling earlier but Tracy had already activated the call block service. Breathless from emotions and the short run, she pulled the door open. Her heart split down the middle.  Kevin stood on the other side.  His dark good looks held her captivated, and all he’d become in her life enveloped her. She wanted to throw herself in his strong arms, while also wishing he would disappear.

He smiled.  ”Are you going to invite me in?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the door closed, he drew her into his arms.  ”I thought you were coming back to the office.”

“Something came up.”  She gently pushed away from the comfort of his arms and walked into the living room.

“I hope nothing serious.”

“Serious enough.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Kevin, listen, this isn’t going to work. I think we need to cool it for awhile.”

He frowned. “What do you mean cool it?”

“I mean we shouldn’t see each other right now. I need to sort a few things in my mind.”  She turned her back to him. Her mouth and heart were going in different directions. No man had ever made her feel as special as he did. She had fallen hard and needed him just to breathe, but she also wanted her friendship with Tracy.

Kevin circled and stood in front her.  He took her hands in his. “A few hours ago you were fine. What is this really about?”

“It’s just best for all concerned.”

He released her hands.  ”For all concerned? You’ve given me the best six months of my life. I can’t imagine living without you. And this is all you have to say?”

She pressed her fingers against her swollen eyes. “Tracy knows.”

Her eyes flew open when he let out a loud expulsion of breath. She watched as he ran his hand over his head and walked to the window overlooking the courtyard. Silence vibrated through the room. Finally, he turned and strode back to where she stood.

“Is this the reason you don’t want to see me?”

“Yes, for the most part.”

“Dawn, I love you. You’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want us to marry as soon as possible.”  His lips tilted in a smile. “I want you to have my babies.”

Butterflies swarmed her stomach. The thought of being his wife left her dizzy and elated, but the ugly reality wouldn’t allow it to sink in.  “It won’t work. Think about the effect this will have on Ashley.  Although she’s only seven, she’s much smarter than you think. Her mom now hates me.  I can never forgive myself for hurting Tracy.”

His brows drew together. “We’re not doing anything wrong. Tracy and I fell out of love, and we’re entitled to find happiness and love again. I’ve found that happiness with you. Surely she can’t hold that against us.” He reached out and held Dawn’s shoulders. “Please, don’t give up what we have.”

Dawn pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, but we can’t be more than friends. It’s best that you leave.”

Kevin’s hands dropped to his sides, emotions stirring in the depths of his eyes. He turned and walked out.

Dawn held the wall for support as her world turned upside down.

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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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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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Thanks to Nan Donahue for sharing one of her manuscripts.

It was their usual Sunday night routine. Saying goodbye.

Their youngest, baby Ella, bounced in her mother’s arms until her dad leaned over and planted a raspberry on her cheek eliciting squeals of delight.

Jessica’s lips curled despite the heaviness in her heart.

As a pharmaceutical sales person, travel was a part of Jack’s job description that she’d grown to accept. But it didn’t make saying goodbye any easier.

After smothering their other two kids in hugs and kisses, Jack hopped into the waiting hired car with a wave and a smile. Jessica’s stomach clenched as she thought about how exciting his life on the road must be—business meetings with doctors, dinner at new restaurants every evening, nights spent in luxurious hotels.

After their oldest, Connor, was born, Jessica made the decision to quit her job as a nurse and stay home full time. Now with three kids under five, she still loved every moment of her time at home. But that was her. Whenever she said goodbye to Jack she couldn’t help wondering if he found their home life dull compared to his travels.

Did he look forward to getting back on the road?

Jessica felt a tug on her pant leg pulling her back from her worries.

“Can I have a drink?” asked three year old Zoë.

“Of course, Sweetie,” Jessica replied as she patted the girl’s curly blonde head. She grabbed three plastic cups from the cupboard, and as she poured a round of apple juice for the masses her concerns about Jack were quickly forgotten.

On Monday night, the phone rang at precisely six o’clock. Jessica’s heart pounded with anticipation. Whenever he traveled, Jack always managed to sneak away and call home at the same time. No matter what.

When she picked up the phone, Jessica could barely hear him over the raised voices and clinking of silverware on dishes. He was at dinner with clients.

The kids jumped at her legs anxious to talk to Daddy. After each had their turn, Connor passed her the phone. “It’s your turn, Mommy.”

But as soon as she raised it to her ear, she heard Jack say, “Sorry, hun. Gotta go.”  He was practically shouting to be heard. “Dr. Watts is about to leave, and I haven’t gotten a commitment from him yet. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

She let out a heavy breath but told herself she could wait until tomorrow to tell him about Zoe’s attempt to dress the cat in a princess gown and tiara.

But on Tuesday evening, Jessica returned home at six-ten following what was supposed to be a quick stop at the grocery store—an impossibility with three kids in tow—to find a message from Jack.

“I won’t be able to call back tonight,” his voice rang out. “The only time Dr. Bryson can meet with me is this evening. Kisses and hugs to everyone.” He sounded distracted, as though he was in a hurry to get off the phone.

Her heart sunk.

The tiara story really isn’t that exciting anyway.

On Wednesday evening, six o’clock came and went with no phone call. Even though she knew he was due home the next night, disappointment weighed heavy in her chest. Her first instinct was to worry. He’d never missed a call before. Had something happened?

Calm down. He’s probably busy with a client, her common sense told her.

But then that meant he’d gotten too busy or just forgot to call.

Either option caused her heart to tighten uncomfortably. But she tried to ignore the sensation as she joined in the kids’ lively dinnertime conversation.

A few hours after the kids were asleep Jessica heard a noise at the front door. Her heart thudded in her chest. Who could it be? She wasn’t expecting anyone.

Wiping her dish soapy hands on a towel, she walked cautiously to the front window to check it out.

But before she reached the foyer, the door swung open and Jack walked into the house. Jessica’s breath caught in her throat, and she rushed to her husband throwing her arms around his neck.

“You’re early!” she mumbled into his shoulder. Her heart sped like crazy—partly from surprise but mostly due to the thrill of seeing Jack.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of being away for another night, so I squeezed all of my appointments into three days. That’s why I’ve been so busy.”

And he couldn’t call tonight because he’d been on a plane, she realized. A pang of guilt gripped her stomach. How could she have doubted him?

He dropped his small suitcase and returned her embrace with both arms. “I’ve had enough stuffy business dinners and lonely hotel stays to last a life time.”

“I thought you liked traveling,” she said tentatively.

Jack pulled back and looked into her eyes. “The only part I like about being away is coming home to you and the kids.”

A wave of relief washed over her leaving a warm glow in its wake. Feeling closer to Jack than ever before, Jessica leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

When she pulled away, she couldn’t help smiling. “Do you want to hear what Zoë did to the cat on Monday?” she asked.

And as they cuddled up on the couch together, the sparkle she saw in Jack’s blue eyes as she talked about their life, their children left no doubt in her mind.

Home really is where his heart is.

The End

Learn more about Marcy Bassett-Kennedy at her SHOWCASE PAGE.