Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge Page 11

  The second floor, however, wasn't as lucky. Most of the ceiling was missing exposing the clear blue sky above. The walls separating each of the rooms were naked down to their skeletons. With a bit of trepidation, she entered the room that had occupied Darcy and her baby. Her jaw dropped when her eyes fell upon a black charred crib.

  “My God.” She clutched a hand to her heart. “She would have died.”

  “You saved her life, Laura.”

  She turned to look at him. “I couldn't leave her.”

  His dark penetrating gaze examined her face for what seemed like infinity. Then he quietly said, “I know.”

  She continued to survey the fire's destruction, wandering from room to room, when something piled in a corner caught her attention. Kneeling down to what appeared to be burnt wooden crates she reached out and took hold of a small broken piece of porcelain, melted beyond recognition. A funny sound escaped her throat as she sunk down on a dejected note.

  Dexter frowned. “What is it?”

  “Christmas,” she murmured. “These were my Christmas boxes. All my decorations, all my family's heirlooms.”

  His frowned deepened. He wasn't one much for Christmas, so he couldn't understand the deep torture etched across her pretty features. But the obvious pain this sight invoked in her was real making him wish he could eliminate her suffering.

  “My mother's village. It's gone.”

  “They're only material items. They'll be easily replaced.”

  Shaking her head, obviously fighting back another onslaught of tears.

  “The important thing is, no lives were lost.” Especially yours, he silently added.

  She nodded, then turned to look up at him. “Do you know how it happened? What started the fire?”

  “They believe one of the girls might have started it.”

  “That's ridiculous.” She immediately got to her feet. “You're just trying to shift the blame, Dexter, to prove you’ve been right all along. I can't believe any of those girls would deliberately—”

  “I didn't say deliberately,” he angrily interrupted, perturbed by her accusation. “They found marijuana ashes in a trash can they believe came from the attic.”

  Laura's face froze, void of any emotion. Poppy's angry voice the night before came back to haunt her. She had been arguing with Ingrid, demanding she inform Laura of the truth.

  “Ingrid,” she whispered, then sunk down on her haunches. “How could she? I gave her everything, a home, care, nurturing. Love.”

  He shook his head, not comprehending why she would have given that much to begin with. But watching her sitting there, her face blank and staring into oblivion, he knew now was not the time to scold her.

  “I'll give you a few minutes and then meet you down at the car.”

  She didn't respond. He didn't need a response. He left her sitting numb and detached. As he walked away, he recognized the look in her somber eyes and knew the sort of pain she felt. The same sort he felt fourteen years before. Instantly, he recognized her symptoms and knew before long she would become a dispassionate and uncaring individual. In other words, he realized with a start, she would become him.

  Instead of being pleased, he felt horribly disappointed. Laura Witherow as a cold heartless person was an unsettling thought.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Where are you taking me?” Knowing she sounded irritated and ungrateful, Laura didn't care. She was beyond feeling anything.

  “Mother's.”

  A flutter in her chest, akin to the rousing of joy, began to tingle within, however, she quickly stomped it out. “Why?”

  “She's been so generous as to offer you a place to stay until the situation with the insurance company is cleared up.”

  Aghast, she spun around in her seat. “Dexter, I—”

  Ever since this horrible incident happened she had been left feeling utter misery and grief. With him only did she feel any semblance of tranquility. She wanted to tell him not to send her away, to let her stay with him, but one look at his inscrutable gaze had her biting her tongue.

  “If it’s not too much trouble for her,” she blandly stated instead.

  His jaw clamped tight. He could see it happening already. Cursing, he swung the vehicle sharply down a nearby street. The faster he got to his mother's the better. For her own sake, Laura needed to get as far away from him as possible.

  He took her to a ritzy neighborhood where houses were lavished in luxury. Adell Cameron's home was one of the last ones on the street, set back from the road on an immaculately landscaped cul-de-sac, with a dynamic backdrop of the woodlands.

  In the entrance, his mother stood waiting. “Laura dear, Dexter told me about the fire. Are you all right? What am I saying, of course, you’re not all right. Come, I'll show you your room and you can rest. Dexter, get yourself something to drink and I'll meet you in the kitchen.”

  “I've got to be going.”

  “So soon?”

  “I've got work to catch up on.”

  “But Dexter—”

  “I'll call later.” He looked at the younger woman who refused to meet his eyes. He wanted to say something, anything; her pale wounded face tore at his insides. Instead, he turned away and left without a word. It was better that way.

  Laura looked up only after he left. Watching him go, she felt a rush of abandonment and something else, akin to heartbreak but for the absence of grief.

  Adell addressed her. “You're welcome to stay as long you like. So don't feel pressured to leave early. It's very lonely around here while Norton is away all day. I'm looking forward to the company.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate this. Truly. I don’t know where I would have gone if you didn’t offer to take me in. But as soon as my insurance company clears it, I would like to be able to get back on my feet as soon as possible.”

  “I understand. Though for now, let's get you settled. Tomorrow we'll go shopping and replace your wardrobe.”

  “Oh, but I can't. I don't have any money or credit cards, I lost everything in the fire—”

  “Not to worry, Dexter's picking up the tab.” She patted the girl's hand.

  Laura came to a stop. “What?”

  Adell looked worried, as if she just said something she shouldn't have. Quickly to amend herself, she added, “If he has the receipts, he'll be able to claim the insurance coverage.”

  “Oh.” It was quietly uttered. Was she disappointed? Yes, admittedly, she was. Once, just once, she would love to see Dexter do something not associated with a financial compensation. Performing an act out of kindness was alien to Dexter O’Reilly.

  Braving a smile to her host, she still found it amazing the two could be related. Turning, she surveyed her surroundings for the first time. “Adell, your home is lovely.”

  Indeed it was. It spoke volumes of elegance and yet surprising tradition with its sculptured railings and vivid colors. In the foyer where she stood above a gleaming floor of marble in pure ivory, Laura’s memory sharply recalled the white quilt covering the bed in Dexter's spare room. Immediately, she altered her train of thoughts, bringing them around instead to the fabulous chandelier above her head. Countless sparkling crystals twinkled down at her, their glow illuminating the splendid foyer.

  Along the half-moon entrance were doors leading to other quarters of the home, and a majestic spiral staircase ascending to the upper floor. It was in this direction in which Adell led. Laura followed in awe. The upstairs blended beautifully in co-ordination with the classic traditional look Adell evidently favored. She gave the girl a small tour, her face glowing of pride as they went from room to room. Laura's own room was breathtaking in its eighteenth century cherry furniture and feminine shades of pink. A cozy reading chair was tucked in one corner while a cheerful rose love seat sat opposite a welcoming fireplace.

  The four-poster bed itself was a masterpiece with its carved posts meticulously sculptured. A floral quilt enhanced the look with matching curtains hung from the six long w
indows banked against the east wall. The many windows gave the room a sunny atmosphere and Laura could hardly wait to be woken by them.

  “You have your own private bath through this door.” Adell opened a door to an equally stylish room.

  It was small in size, compared to the bedroom, of course, but it held a gorgeous Victorian claw-foot bath and a custom-built vanity adorned with chintz drapes and dangling rose tassels substituting as paneled doors. The counter top held a vase of fresh flowers and an assortment of hand-made fabric boxes filled with dainty soaps and perfumes.

  Impressed, she told the woman, “It’s lovely, Adell. You've done a beautiful job.”

  “Well, I confess, I’ve had a little professional help. But the general theme I came up with.”

  Later that evening, after supper, while Adell finished her tour of the remainder of the home, her husband, Norton, called from the construction site where his latest building was being erected and informed his wife he would not be home for supper due to problems which had arisen.

  Laura discovered Norton was a well-established architect with many of his well-known buildings gracing the skylines of cities such as Toronto and Montreal. They had met ten years ago when Norton's company was hired to design and build the Britten Investment and Financial Group, even though, to Laura's surprise, they were only married slightly over a year.

  “When I first met Norton I knew right away. Here was the man I wanted to spend out the rest of my life with.” Her eyes went dreamy as she drifted back into the past.

  “But why did it take so long for you to marry?” They had taken their tea into a cozy sitting room and sat opposite each other on a plump sofa.

  Adell shook her head. “We had to keep our relationship very secretive for the first few years.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Some members of my family would have found it difficult to understand.” She stated calmly as if it held no importance.

  “Dexter.” Laura knew instantly.

  The man's mother shrugged nonchalantly. “It was difficult after his father died.”

  “What happened? I mean, how did he die?”

  “There was a terrible accident. His car went over a bridge.” She took a gulp of her warm drink before continuing. “Dexter witnessed it all.”

  Laura gasped, horrified. “That explains why he's—” she broke off quickly, realizing what she was about to say and who she was speaking with.

  However, Adell nodded. “Yes, it's made him a very bitter and hateful young man. I couldn't help him, because he didn't want my help or anyone else's for that matter.”

  “Why not? Seeing something so horrendous as the death of your own parent is very traumatizing.”

  “He believes himself responsible.” She reached over and placed her cup on a saucer of bone china.

  “But why?”

  “He was in the car as well, but managed to escape before it went over.”

  Sorrow filled Laura. “That doesn't make it his fault.”

  “We all understand that, but for some reason he refuses to be allowed forgiveness.”

  Two finely shaped brows drew together above Laura's eyes. “He must be in a lot of pain.”

  His mother nodded. “That was why when I met you, I thought perhaps you might be able to help him.”

  “Me? Because of my psychology background?”

  “Yes, but mostly because I could tell you generally liked him. He doesn't leave that impression on much of anyone anymore.”

  Laura was struck dumbfounded, then quickly flapped her tongue. “Yes, it's true I like your son. But, why shouldn't I? He's done a lot to help me, with my shelter and financial accounts.”

  Adell shook her head again. “Before that, at the Christmas party. I saw the way you looked at him. The same way I looked at Norton ten years ago.”

  She blushed hotly. “I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.”

  The older woman smiled. “You're just like him. I suppose that's why he likes you as well.” And at the girl's startled expression added, “I saw the same look on his face that night.”

  Laura was quick to differ. “Now I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.”

  Adell sighed. “I suppose when the time is right . . .”

  She allowed the words to drift away, unsaid. “Meanwhile, let's do change the subject. My son's somber disposition is beginning to depress me, and I do so want to enjoy your stay while I can.”

  She smiled, responding, “Yes, let's do, by telling me where in heavens did you get all these seashells?”

  Diverting their attention, and conversion, toward the glass-topped curio-style coffee table displaying many seashells exhibited on a black velvet case beneath it.

  “I've collected them on our travels across the world.” She sat forward, excitement filling her voice.

  Laura was pleased to be off the subject of their earlier topic. As it was, it left her with a lot of disturbing thoughts. “You've traveled the world?”

  “Not all of it. Just a good portion.” She leaned over and pulled a drawer, bringing the shells out for closer examination. “This one I found in a little shop in Vienna, and this one at a flea market along the coast of a small village in Peru. Now this beauty is especially valuable to me. It was one of my firsts I found when Norton and I went to England together for the first time. It was a wonderfully romantic spot. We stayed at a quaint bed and breakfast near Bristol overlooking the sea. Many of nights we would stroll arm in arm along the seashore. One night I looked down and there it was, glistening up at me in the moonlight.”

  Laura looked at the tiny opal colored shell and smiled. Somehow she understood it was not the shell itself but the memory of that stay which held its value.

  “Listen.” She handed the shell over to Laura.

  Placing it against her ear she heard a faint rumbling sound, very similar to that of the sea.

  “Norton would say as long as the sea's echo could be heard, was how long he would love me. It was the first time he told me he cared.”

  “How romantic.” She handed the shell back.

  “Mmm, Norton isn't normally a very romantic man, but when he is, I value it that much more.” She placed the shell gently back on its mat. “Because it comes from the heart.”

  Laura sighed contently and sat back against the upholstery.

  “My, I'm keeping you up. You must be tired.” Adell mistook her sigh.

  “Maybe a little, but I enjoy listening to your memories.”

  “Which could have waited until tomorrow. Now, off to bed. We'll have another little tete-a-tete tomorrow.”

  “I'd like that.”

  The woman leaned over and took Laura's hands in hers. “Good, I'm glad to hear it.”

  When Laura went to bed her dreams were full of English countrysides, seashells and silly romantic notions. For instead of seeing Adell and Norton Cameron strolling lovingly along the seashore, an image of Dexter embracing her passionately silhouetted against the moonlit kissed seaside emerged. Silly, for she knew the infeasible odds of Dexter caring in the slightest were nonexistent. And yet, a shudder of pleasure rippled inwardly at the depth of how real the image felt.

  * * *

  The following morning, Adell took her to the same classy shop from which Dexter purchased the outfit the day before. Trying on everything in the store from undergarments to overcoats, Laura left with an armful of bags but couldn’t help the guilty feeling nudging her conscious. She wasn‘t used to spending so much at once.

  Next, they drove down into Toronto where they spent an excursion through the prominent shops in the heart of downtown. The popular stores were more than pleased to assist in the rebuilding of her wardrobe. Lavishing blouse after blouse, skirt after skirt, until finally Laura felt she exhausted her spending limits. She wasn't entirely sure just how much of the expense the insurance company would cover.

  Around the lunch hour they left the city and headed north back home. They stopped in Gravenhurst f
or lunch at a restaurant along the shoreline of Lake Muskoka, and enjoyed a meal of superb delicacy and then followed through with a stroll along the city’s historic streets. Laura enjoyed browsing through the unique shops and small art galleries in buildings dating back to the late 1800's. The town was incorporated into a village in 1877 and was one of the original settlements in the Muskoka area. Originally, it became a popular spot on account of timber from the surrounding woodland, finding its way to the many sawmills along Lake Muskoka, and completely covered the small lake with logs. Today, its chilly waters remained empty and calm.

  They walked down to the port overlooking the Muskoka Bay and followed through with a stroll along its shoreline. A public flea market enticed them to take a look and wander through the many unusual and unique collectibles. Adell was pleased to find a seashell to add to her collection.

  The weather remained beautiful for the rest of the day with only the slightest cool breeze drifting in from the Bay. They decided to finish their outing with a stroll along the waterfront, however, far too soon, they were seated back in Adell's plush Volkswagen and heading east out of the city. Forty minutes later they pulled into her drive, tired and exhausted.

  Carrying most of her parcels, with the help of Adell, Laura took them up to her room where she began the process of putting them away. As she hung a lovely printed dress of wine coloring, she sighed with contentment, completely relaxed and apart from all her problems. There wasn't a moment during the day when she allowed thoughts of the fire and her home; finding when she did she was able to easily turn them in the opposite direction. Being with Adell and her jovial personality made it all that more possible.

  Behind her, the woman's footsteps walked briskly across the hardwood floor toward her. “There was a message on my answering machine. You are to call your insurance company.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Her eyes lit up. At last she could settle this obligatory process and clear up her outstanding debts. Tomorrow she would begin immediately the search for a restoration and reconstruction firm to rebuild her father's home.