Glossed and Found

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Glossed and Found Page 25

by India Ink


  Sliding on a black silk skirt, I added a royal purple and hunter striped V-neck sweater with sparkling gold trim, and black Chanel pumps. I brushed my hair back, holding it with jeweled barrettes, and quickly applied my makeup and slid gold hoops into my ears. Satisfied that I looked as good as I felt, I headed downstairs.

  Kane was in the kitchen, helping Auntie. Barb and Dorian had already arrived, pastries aplenty in hand. They looked radiant, and I pulled her into the kitchen with me after kissing Dorian on the cheek.

  “You look good. What’s shaking?”

  She beamed. “Dorian’s taking me to Fiji next month—just the two of us, for a second honeymoon! That’s his Christmas present to me this year.”

  I gave her a hug, thinking that the big lug had finally come to his senses. “Good for you. It sounds divine. I wish I could go!”

  “Well you can’t, at least not with us,” she said, grinning. “Meanwhile, where’s that man of yours?”

  I snickered. “He’ll be here. I can’t wait until he gets his shop going again, though I think he’s going to be surprised when he finds out Betsy Sue has asked if she can stay with us. She has a knack for retail, and she loves making friends. It won’t be for long, anyway. She’s due in a couple of months, and since Julius will be working again for Killian, she’ll be able to take some time off for maternity leave.”

  “Are Lisa and Amy coming to brunch?” Barb asked, tossing her coppery bob back. I gasped as I saw the twinkle of amethyst in her ears.

  “New earrings, my dear? And yes, they should be here any minute.”

  She beamed again. “Another present. Dorian apologized for putting me through what he did when Mama Konstantinos was here. He’s promised that on the next trip to Greece, we’ll stay at a hotel, and I won’t have to put up with her bitching at me. He’ll stand up for me from now on.”

  “Well, it’s about time,” I said. The sound of chimes echoed through from the living room. “Come on, there’s the doorbell.”

  Auntie had already gotten the door by the time we got there, and Amy, Lisa, and Kyle stood there. Lisa still looked a little unsteady, but she sported a dazzling smile, while Amy and Kyle kept gazing at each other in a way that told me Kyle had grabbed the brass ring and discovered it was actually gold.

  We gathered near the tree, and Auntie plugged in the Christmas lights while Kane opened the curtains so that we could see the snow-covered yard. Auntie’s idea of hooking the lights up to The Clapper might have saved me, but like I had predicted, it proved to be a strobe light nightmare every time one of us clapped at the dogs or cats to make them behave. The Clapper was now safely back in the kitchen drawer.

  “So tell me,” Barb said to Lisa as we settled in the living room. “How did they kidnap you? If it’s not too traumatic.”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “I was so stupid. I never expected Candy to fight back, or I wouldn’t have agreed to meet them in private. I guess I was greedy,” she said in a quiet little voice. “I knew she’d stolen Dad’s money, and I figured she’d do anything to avoid having her affair with Lloyd exposed because it might lead to other secrets being uncovered.”

  “Did they kidnap you at Lookout Pier?” Barb asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Candy was armed with a syringe of that damned drug. Lloyd was talking to me—distracting me, now I know—when Candy stuck the needle through the leg of my jeans. She injected me before I knew what was happening, and the stuff works quickly. It leaves you feeling paralyzed. You can still think, you just can’t react. Terrifying stuff.”

  “What were they going to do with you?” Dorian asked, his eyes wide.

  “I think Candy planned to kill me all along, but she had to convince Lloyd to go through with it. At first, I heard her tell him that they’d just keep me there. That they’d figure out what to do with me and let me go when they were safe. He’s so stupid, he bought it,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Lloyd told us pretty much the same thing,” Kyle said. “He said he never would have agreed to kidnap you if he thought that Candy meant to kill you. I tend to believe him. He was a lousy lawyer because he never could think on his feet in court.”

  “Too stupid to live,” I said. Everybody looked at me. “He’s one of those people you look at and think, Jeez, you’re just too stupid to live.”

  Lisa snorted. “That’s the truth. He came out to the beach house and talked to me a couple of times. I tried to convince him to let me go, but he kept saying that Candy would fix it all—that she’d think of something, and everything would be okay.”

  “Well, it’s not going to be okay for the two of them, that’s for sure,” Kyle said dryly.

  “Is there any chance you can get your money back from her?” Kane asked.

  Lisa shook her head. “No, there’s no clear-cut way to prove that she actually stole it. We’re still fighting to save the house.”

  The doorbell rang again, and I answered. Annabel Mason stood there, and I could see Daphne wading through the snow from her car. I hugged Annabel and welcomed her in. Within moments, Daphne was helping Auntie and Barb fill the table with food and mimosas. While Dorian and Kane debated the merits of real versus artificial trees, Amy and Kyle snuggled in front of the fire. Annabel sat beside Lisa, holding the girl’s hand.

  “Again, I am so sorry for the trouble Lloyd caused,” she was saying.

  Lisa shook her head. “You didn’t know; it wasn’t your fault. I should have tried some other way to get my father’s money back. It was a stupid mistake. I’m sorry about your husband and Candy, though. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

  Annabel smiled gently. “Well, you two didn’t deserve to have your inheritance stolen from under your noses. Which is why I’m giving you an early Christmas present.” She opened her purse and pulled out a letter, handing it to Lisa. “I only hope that this makes up for your pain and trouble, my dear.”

  Lisa slowly opened the letter and gasped, then showed it to Amy. Amy paled. “We can’t possibly let you do this—” she started to say, but Annabel held up her hand.

  “Of course you can. If I can’t do good in this world with my money, then I’m not the person I hope to be. You girls have had to cope with too much over the past few years. Let me help you. Please.”

  Annabel’s voice was wistful, and I saw Amy look at her with understanding. Sometimes people needed to be needed. Amy put her arm around Lisa and hugged her, then gave the older woman a broad smile. “Thank you. You’re most kind, and we’re honored to accept your help.”

  Lisa stood up. “May I escort you to the table? It looks like brunch is ready.” As she led Annabel into the dining room, I turned to Amy with a questioning look. She silently showed me the letter. Annabel had paid off every one of their father’s creditors, and the house was free and clear, no longer in danger of being taken away to satisfy debts.

  “Congratulations,” I said. And then, because I was feeling mischievous, I grinned. “And congratulations on your engagement, too. Don’t think I don’t see that hunk of ice sitting on your finger there!”

  Amy and Kyle blushed.

  “We know it’s awfully quick, but sometimes, you just know you’re doing the right thing,” Amy said. “We won’t be getting married until June, though.”

  “We’re going to make the official announcement during brunch,” Kyle whispered. And then he startled me by asking, “Persia, would you be my Best Woman?”

  I snorted. “As long as you don’t put me in a tux, sure.” I glanced at Amy. “And Lisa will be maid of honor, of course?”

  “Of course,” she said, giggling. “Do you think we’d better get to the table? It looks like Miss Florence is almost ready.”

  I motioned for them to go ahead. “I’ll be there in a second,” I said. As they bustled away, I turned back to the window. Delilah was sitting on the ledge, watching the lace-covered world outside. The snow was as white as her coat, and we stared at the front yard as I stroked her throat. She began to purr, her b
ody vibrating as I leaned down to plant a kiss on the elderly cat’s head. As I straightened up, Killian’s car pulled into the yard.

  I yelled out, “Killian’s here, don’t start without us!” and raced out the door and down the steps, ignoring the cold blast as the arctic chill slammed into me.

  Laughing, Killian held out his arms and caught me up in a flurry of kisses. “I missed you, babe,” he said, holding me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe.

  I buried my face in his neck and sighed contentedly. “I’m glad you’re home. It’s been a hard two weeks, but everything’s going to be okay now that you’re back.”

  “I have an early birthday present for you,” he said. “I know it’s a month away, but I want to tell you now so you can make arrangements for it.”

  I looked up at him, my heart skipping a beat. Please don’t let it be a ring, please don’t make me decide now. “What is it?” I asked slowly.

  Killian pulled a bottle out of his pocket and pressed it into my hand. “Smell that and tell me what it is.”

  Puzzled, I twisted the cap off and sniffed. The fragrance of tropical nights and molten earth rose to intoxicate my senses. “Oh, that’s lovely! Let me see . . . jasmine and white ginger, ylang-ylang, and . . . hibiscus?”

  “And a few more. That’s a bottle of Tropical Fire, a little combo I had specially blended just for you. And it’s a hint as to what your birthday present is.” He grinned, then slowly handed me an envelope. I opened it. Inside were two tickets to Hawai’i. I beamed at him.

  “A trip? For us?”

  “Not just us. Miss Florence and Kane are going, too. Kane and I rigged this up before I left. We’re taking the two of you to the Big Island next month. No arguments. We’re going to spend two luxurious weeks lolling about the beaches and go visit Kilauea and the observatories on Mauna Kea. Kane said he thinks Miss Florence is ready to go back now.”

  I flew into his arms again. “You know exactly the right thing to say and the right gifts to give,” I murmured.

  He pushed me back and stared into my eyes as the snow began to fall again. “Persia, I know you aren’t ready to hear what I want to say, so let me say this instead: There’s nobody else but you. Nobody. Do you understand?”

  As the flakes grew fat and thick, I glanced back at the house. The lights were glimmering against the winter landscape, and for a moment I felt like I’d been swept into a Currier & Ives print. Beauty and Beast and Petey had gathered around the screen door, staring out, and Delilah was sitting in the window now, her gaze captivated by the snowflakes.

  I turned back to Killian and searched his face. What if things fell apart? What if I couldn’t say the words, ever?

  As I gazed into his eyes, I realized that Killian understood and was giving me exactly what I needed. I had my space, and yet we were together. A couple in a way that I’d never been with anyone. I reached up to gently rest my lips against his and realized that I didn’t need to say a word. He heard me loud and clear.

  From the pages of Persia’s Journal

  Yuletide Pomanders

  It’s that time again—time to create Yuletide pomanders for friends and family. We sell them at the shop, too, but mostly, I like to give these as gifts because they’re so labor-intensive. But I’m giving the directions to our customers, because these are fun to make for the whole family. Sit down in front of a good movie and enjoy whipping up a few for your own home and as gifts to good friends.

  Other ways to make the holidays less stressful and more fun:

  Hold a Christmas or Yuletide dessert party. Have everyone bring a different dessert that originates in a different country (and provide some cheese and crackers and fruits for those who can’t eat sugar), light a fire in the fireplace, put on good music, and nosh as you relax and enjoy the company of friends. One person might bring an English trifle. Another might bring baklava. Other dessert ideas: tiramisu, mochi, Linzer torte, flan, granita, pepperkaker . . . all sorts of goodies that will give your gathering a worldwide flavor.

  Get together with your grown siblings and agree that instead of scrambling to buy gifts that you don’t even know will be appreciated, that each family will donate to a charity of their choice.

  Spend time at a homeless shelter, serving meals to those less fortunate. This is a good lesson for children, to show them just how much they have to be thankful for.

  Splurge and hire a housekeeper to come in for a couple of hours before decorating for the holidays. A little luxury can save a lot of time and stress.

  Place bowls of lightly scented potpourri around the house to add a holiday scent all season long.

  Find fun-shaped candles (like snowmen or trees) and cut the wicks down to the very edge so they can’t be burned. When stored properly, these can become decorations that will last for years.

  If the old traditions don’t mean anything, develop new ones that do.

  Go out to watch the moon on a cold and frost-filled night. There’s a certain look to it that is so haunting, so beautiful, that it will make you forget the stress of the day.

  Don’t forget—there are many winter holiday traditions celebrated, all around the same time. Using the phrase Happy Holidays is a wonderful and thoughtful way to incorporate them all and not make anybody feel excluded or left out.

  To make your pomander you will need:

  One large orange for each pomander

  A lot of whole cloves

  ¼ cup each dried and ground: cinnamon, cloves, ginger, nutmeg

  A length of red ribbon

  A yard of red netting

  Over a tray so the juice won’t stain your clothes, push the cloves (long end first) into the orange. Fill in the entire surface, placing cloves as close together as possible while focusing on joy and love filling your home. Mix the ground spices in a shallow tray. Roll the orange in them until covered. Set in dry place that isn’t too warm or too cold. Once a day, roll the orange(s) around in the spices. Within three weeks, they should be dry. Gently tap off the excess spices, wrap each orange in netting, and tie the ends together with ribbon (like you would a sachet). Hang from the ceiling in your kitchen, family room, living room, or dining room.

 

 

 


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