A Last Resort

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A Last Resort Page 15

by Brenda Sinclair

Lyndon chuckled at their capacity to forgive each other. The one thing all families did, sooner or later. And the three of them had coalesced like a family unit, despite being three strangers not that long ago. Apparently, his punishment had been fair and reasonable since Shelley accepted her fate without complaint. Maybe this dad thing wouldn’t be so difficult after all. Something to definitely consider for the future.

  “Okay, surrender.” Lyndon smiled at the teen. “And you can help me paint as further punishment. And help me set up the office and bathroom furniture and supplies when the paint is dry tomorrow.”

  Shelley wandered around to his side of the table. “Truce. And I don’t mind helping at all. Tired of math anyway.”

  “Add finish homework tonight to the list.” Lyndon hooked his finger and motioned her toward the back door. “Time to work.”

  Chapter 22

  Emma looked up from her laptop. She’d assigned Shelley the job of dusting the entire cabin as part of her punishment for accessing and reading the manuscript. The little stinker. Emma had to give her props for the nerve to even consider such a thing. She understood her fans obsessing over the release of her next book, but the ends Shelley resorted to took the cake. And she was paying for it.

  “You missed a spot,” she mumbled, glancing over at the teen.

  “Where?” Shelley exclaimed.

  Emma smiled.

  “Very funny,” the teen scoffed.

  Emma closed her laptop and climbed off the sofa. She wandered over to the wall of photographs where Shelley was meticulously dusting each picture frame. The girl couldn’t be a better worker, no matter what the chore. “You know all these people?”

  “Yeah. Mostly family. Some of them are cabin owners who’d been here for parties. This is Mr. and Mrs. Landers feeding each other his birthday cake last year. I think some of them are friends of Rachael’s. Here’s one of you.”

  Emma leaned closer. “You’re right. That was taken a few years ago when I released book number lucky thirteen.” She smiled recalling the two weeks she’d shared here with Rachael after completing a grueling book signing tour around Western Canada and a few cities in the northern United States.

  “This is Mom and Dad and Carla and me,” Shelley said, pointing to a family portrait with her parents and sister obviously taken at Christmas. The teen hadn’t aged so it may have been last year.

  “Nice-looking family.”

  Shelley shrugged. “These two were Granny and Gramps. They’re both dead now. But they were really great.”

  “Grandparents usually are.” Emma rubbed Shelley’s back. “I can tell you miss them.”

  “Yeah. Granny Lewis taught me a lot about cooking. I have all her recipe books and the recipes she collected her entire life.” Shelley smiled. “Maybe I should write a cookbook and you could help me.”

  Emma hooted. “Compared to your talent, I can barely boil water.”

  “That’s a total exaggeration. Lyndon told me you offered to cook if he did dishes.”

  “You’re right. I don’t mind cooking, but I’m not a chef and I have no intention of ever involving myself in the publication of a cookbook.” Emma wagged a finger at Shelley. “Talk to Rachael for any help with that endeavor.”

  Shelley straightened her grandparents’ photo. “Maybe I will.”

  “This looks like you’re having family fun.” Emma pointed to a picture of Shelley’s family playing a game of Twister with arms and legs stretched in every direction and smiles on all of their faces. Even her father’s.

  Shelley laughed. “Rachael took that, despite us telling her not to.”

  “This should serve as a reminder that you’re part of a loving family. Parents who adore you and I bet your sister is missing you right now. You shouldn’t have run away and worried everybody.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Shelley heaved a sigh. “But no one would listen to me.”

  “What about now? Would you be willing to talk to your parents if they listened to you?”

  Shelley remained silent and continued dusting.

  Emma wondered what the teen was thinking and her heartbeat raced. “I hope you’re not thinking about running again?” she said, softly.

  Shelley’s head jerked up. “No! Not at all.”

  “Then talk to me.” Emma leaned against the bookcase, prepared to wait her out.

  “Maybe, if they came here and agreed to listen to my side of things.”

  “Fair enough. Some place that doesn’t give anyone home court advantage,” Emma clarified.

  “This isn’t a game,” Shelley lamented. “Is that what Rachael thinks? What my parents consider all this it about? Just me playing games and then I’ll come home and do what they wanted all along?”

  Emma shook her head. “Absolutely not. Sorry… my poor choice of words. No one thinks anything of the sort. They understand you’re serious about this.”

  The laptop pinged a notification and Emma returned to the sofa. Another email from Rachael…

  Hi Emma

  Time got away on me again and I just realized several days have passed since I last contacted you. Hope all is well with you and Shelley.

  The pages you sent were even better than I expected. I loved how you wound up the subplot with the discovery of the hero’s father. Exceptional job, as usual. With only the one chapter left to complete, and then your final read through, I’ve been making plans to come up in another week or so. And surprise, Mike insists he’s coming, too. I guess he has things to finalize as part of winterizing the cabin or something. Anyway, I’m looking forward to seeing you the last weekend in November.

  And, by the way, we’ve heard from Walter and he has news for Shelley, but he hopes to meet with her in person to discuss it. I have no idea what it’s about since he didn’t elaborate in his email. I guess you could find him on your doorstep one of these days, too.

  Take care and happy writing.

  Best regards,

  Rachael

  Emma closed the laptop. “Well, that was cryptic.”

  “What do you mean?” Shelley frowned.

  Emma contemplated the best way to handle the news about the teen’s father possibly arriving for a discussion with his daughter. “Rachael likes the chapters I sent. And she’s coming up the last weekend this month to read the entire completed manuscript.”

  “Been there, done that,” Shelley muttered. “Won’t be doing it again.”

  Emma chuckled, hearing the girl had learned a valuable lesson.

  “Anyway, Rachael mentioned she and Mike learned your father has news to discuss with you but Rachael doesn’t know what it is.” Emma shrugged. “Cryptic, right?”

  “Well, whatever it is, I’m not going to like it.” Shelley tossed the duster onto the floor and flopped onto the sofa beside Emma.

  “Now, keep an open mind.” Emma rubbed her back. “Maybe your dad considered your aversion to living in Dubai and he’s worked out a compromise. Made arrangements for you somehow to stay in Vancouver.”

  Shelley shifted to face Emma. “Ya think?”

  Emma smiled, the teen’s hopeful expression tearing at her heartstrings. “Who knows? I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Is Dad coming here?”

  “Don’t know for sure.” Emma shrugged. “Better finish that dusting so the place is clean no matter who shows up.”

  Shelley hopped up, grabbed the duster, and returned to work without complaint. Emma considered the possibility the teen actually missed her family. Hopefully, if her father arrived with this news he’d alluded to, Shelley’s entire family would have accompanied him. Time would tell. And Emma couldn’t wait to present Rachael with the finished manuscript.

  Soon her fingers were flying over the laptop’s keys as she hurried to finish writing the last chapter of the first draft. Then she would set the book aside for a day or two, before returning to it for a final read through prior to her editor’s arrival.

  Emma knew from experience she’d require some
thing significant to keep her mind off her story while the book languished on her laptop for a few days. She’d require something to occupy her time and prevent temptation from winning out. “Shelley, want to make some cookies tomorrow?”

  “Sure, Em,” she muttered.

  Emma shook her head. Now the teen was using Lyndon’s nickname for her.

  “Maybe we could drive into town the day after and do some shopping also. I don’t know how many shops are open off-season and I know the movie theater closes October first. But we should be able to find something open.”

  “Sounds good. Can Jake come with us?”

  Emma chuckled. “Only if he brings his credit card along.”

  Chapter 23

  On the last Friday in November, Lyndon strode into the cabin for dinner. Something smelled heavenly and he inhaled the scent hanging in the air.

  “What is that aroma? Dinner smells wonderful,” he exclaimed.

  “Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, Caesar salad and creamed carrots,” Shelley called from the kitchen.

  “Sign me up,” he replied. “Give me ten minutes to shower and I’ll be in the dining room with bells on.”

  “I’ll feed Jake for you,” Emma called.

  “Thanks,” he replied, racing down the hallway. Roast chicken sounded like a Sunday dinner thing, or a celebration meal. Maybe those two females realized he’d finished the garage/workshop combo job today. That called for a celebration for sure.

  Ten minutes later, Lyndon rounded the corner into the dining room. Despite wearing a plaid dress shirt and dark jeans, he still considered himself underdressed. Emma stood pouring wine, her auburn hair looking incredible against an emerald green one-piece jumpsuit and pair of pale gray heels. Shelley wore a short lacy black dress with a faded jean jacket and black flats. They both looked remarkable and ready for dinner out on the town.

  “What’s the occasion?” he blurted.

  Emma beamed from ear to ear.

  Shelley giggled. “Tell him,” she whispered.

  “I finished the book today,” Emma said, excitement in her voice.

  “It’s done!” Shelley exclaimed.

  “Wow. That’s great news,” Lyndon said, shaking his head. “Guess I won’t mention that thanks to Shelley’s help this morning with setting up furniture and putting away all the supplies in the bathroom and coffee room, I finished the garage and workshop this afternoon. My project is done also.”

  Shelley’s mouth dropped open.

  Emma squealed like a teenager. “We really need to celebrate!”

  “The garage and workshop are really something, Em. You should see them.” Shelley pointed to Lyndon. “He’s really good at building stuff.”

  “Thank you. We’ll tour later. I’m starving. Let’s eat,” he countered.

  “Not so fast. Watch this.” Shelley raced out to the kitchen and returned with a dog biscuit in her hand. “Sit.” The teen stood in front of Jake and placed the canine treat on his nose. “Wait…. Good boy… Wait…”

  Jake sat with his eyes glued to Shelley, remaining completely motionless.

  “Okay, you can have it.”

  Jake tossed the biscuit in the air and caught it between his jaws, then crunched it and swallowed.

  “Ta-da!” Shelley crouched down and hugged Jake. “We mastered a new trick so we have something to celebrate also.”

  Lyndon burst into laughter. “How long have you been working on that?”

  “Since the night of the storm. I couldn’t sleep and we talked most of the night,” Shelley admitted. “Jake is a very good listener.”

  Lyndon recalled the day he observed her talking to Jake during his bath. He really needed to convince Shelley’s parents to get her a pet. And again she’d been awake at night when he’d thought her asleep. She’d been alone in her room this time, talking to his dog and teaching him a new trick at least, and not breaking into other people’s laptops.

  “All right, let’s celebrate. Dish up this impressive meal, please,” Lyndon begged. “Before I perish from starvation.”

  “Every night you claim you’re on the verge of starvation.” Emma voiced the reminder.

  Lyndon winked at her. “I’m a dedicated perfectionist. I require culinary fortification after a hard day’s work.”

  “You got it.” Shelley hurried off to the kitchen.

  Emma took her place at the table. “She’s been cooking since two o’clock. Humming and talking to Jake. She’s really happy here. But Rachael warned us her father could arrive any day, bringing news with him.”

  “And Mike and Rachael are due here tomorrow,” Lyndon added. “Do you think her parents will come also?”

  Emma shrugged and sipped her wine. “No idea. And I don’t care. Let’s enjoy tonight and worry about it in the morning. I’m even going to try the chicken.”

  Shelley served them a scrumptious dinner. Emma and Lyndon praised each dish which tasted better than the one before it. And then their chef served each of them a large slice of cheesecake for dessert.

  Emma’s jaw dropped. “I’ve been watching you off and on all afternoon. When did you make this?”

  “When you were in the shower and dressing. It’s a no-bake recipe so I pulled it off. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “This is so good. Surprise us all you want,” Lyndon offered. “Thank goodness, I’m done this job or I’d gain fifty pounds if I stayed here much longer.”

  “I am not stepping on a scale until after Christmas,” Emma stated. “The next month will involve nothing but parties and get-togethers and eating and drinking and being merry. It’s a losing battle every year.”

  “I double up on the trips to the gym. Only hope of surviving the holidays.” Lyndon forked another mouthful of cheesecake into his mouth and groaned. “Between this dessert and that chicken, if you were twenty years older, I’d marry you.”

  Shelley giggled and blushed profusely.

  “You realize I’m kidding, right?” Lyndon glanced from Emma to Shelley.

  “I know. I get it… you like my cooking. I bet Em can cook well. She’s letting on she’s hopeless in the kitchen so she can get out of making meals.”

  Emma put down her fork and threw up her hands. “She’s on to me. My secret is out.”

  Lyndon shook his head.

  Shelley laughed. “You guys are the best.”

  “Leave the dishes for later. I’ll do them.” Lyndon shoved his chair back from the table. “Let’s take the tour of the garage and Mike’s workshop. I’m really stoked with the way it turned out.”

  Emma and Shelley grabbed their winter coats and shoved their feet into warm boots, and then the three of them hurried outside to the heated garage.

  “You put our vehicles in here,” Emma exclaimed, entering the building and seeing her SUV and his truck occupying two of the three bays.

  “No reason not to. The weather’s colder, and after the storm the other night, I thought it would be okay with Mike.”

  “I’m sure it is.” Emma turned slowly taking it all in. “This is really nice. My garage at home seems so plain jane now. The floor isn’t painted and the walls are cement cinder blocks.”

  “Wait until you see the workshop.” Shelley grasped Emma’s hand and tugged her toward the other side of the garage. “In here is the bathroom. With only a sink and toilet, but that’s all Uncle Mike needs. And then over here is his office and coffee room.”

  Shelley opened the door with a flourish. “Isn’t this great? I piled Uncle Mike’s carpentry books here and car books on these shelves above the desk. I hope they’re in the correct order.”

  “He’ll arrange them to suit himself. Don’t worry. You did a great job.” Lyndon hugged her shoulder. “And you saved me a lot of time.”

  “I set up all the coffee stuff and the coffee maker on this wooden stand here. There’s paper towels and a bunch of stuff in those cabinets in back there.” Shelley gazed around. She motioned toward the sofa on the one wall and the grouping of
three chairs opposite. “The furniture is great. This bar fridge has beer in it. Yuck. But this one is full of colas and juice.”

  Lyndon waved them toward the door. “Now for the really cool stuff.”

  Emma followed him and Shelley through the garage to the double doors leading to the workshop itself. Between the office door and bathroom door, an entire wall of pegboard material held Mike’s auto tools. Lyndon opened one of the doors. “Take a look at this,” he exclaimed, employing a hand flourish similar to Shelley’s.

  Emma wandered inside and smiled. “Oh my goodness. Look at this place.”

  “This huge table in the middle is for working on projects. And look at all the cupboards and drawers underneath. If Mike runs out of storage, I give up. Over in the corner is all the paint supplies and painting area. Every tool known to mankind is hung on these pegboards and I’m sure you noticed the car tools hung on the wall between the office and bathroom.”

  Emma nodded.

  Lyndon continued, “These racks will hold sheets of lumber and lengths of boards. Mike can set them up and label whatever he wants. It’s his shop. But the best part is behind that door.” He guided Emma over to the man door and opened it into the area holding all the saws and sanding equipment. “Here is where all the sawdust will be contained. And there’s a heavy duty wet/dry vacuum to clean all the sawdust off the cement floor.”

  Lyndon followed Emma’s gaze. He doubted she knew a table saw from a router or from a sander, but she looked impressed. “Mike is going to absolutely love this place. He has the money to buy the best equipment and I’ve seen his work, including those bookcases surrounding the woodstove in the cabin. He’s really good.”

  “Mike has a small workshop in his garage in Calgary. He also built bookcases for Rachael for their Calgary home. You know how many books she has here. Her house in Calgary is full of them.” Emma grinned. “Of course, I’m one to talk. I’ve lost count of the number I own.”

 

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