Reflecting Love's Charms (Bellingwood Book 14)

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  She nodded and walked away. Polly wasn't even sure where the wheel barrow had gone after she left it on Monday. It wasn't by the rock pile they'd created so she opened the garage in hopes that someone had parked it inside the front door. She turned her phone's flashlight on so she could peer around the piles of furniture she'd dragged out of the house. This was just one more overwhelming amount of stuff she needed to deal with. But no wheelbarrow.

  Polly closed the door on the garage and walked around back, careful to stay away from the hole she'd fallen into. The wheelbarrow was nowhere to be seen there, either. Henry wasn't going to be happy if someone stole it. It was her own fault, though, not putting things away. She was leery about walking too far into the back yard. If Henry wouldn't tell her whether or not there were more rooms underneath the ground, she had to assume there were. With her luck, she'd fall into another one and that would just be embarrassing.

  A loud crack reverberated around the house as she walked back to the front of the garage. He'd done it without her. Then she realized that he'd sent her away so he could take care of things without her getting in the way. Polly remembered where she'd last seen the wheelbarrow – on the other side of the house where they’d been working last night.

  Eliseo stood beside the horses with as big a grin as she'd seen, his eyes lit up in glee. "That was fun," he said, patting Nat. "We want to do it again. Oh look." Eliseo pointed at the wheelbarrow. "It was right here."

  "You're rotten," she said, pushing it over to where he was standing. "You sent me away."

  "I wasn't sure if it would work and I didn't want you to be hurt if anything went flying. We're going to drag this across the yard to the wagon. I'll be back to help you dig out the rest of the bricks."

  Polly watched the structure as the horses pulled it across the lawn, leaving branches and leaves in its path. One more thing dealt with. She might get through this yet.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Construction was exhausting. They'd spent another evening at the Bell House, working on the porch and Polly was pretty sure this manual labor was going to kill her. Then she laughed. Once upon a time, she had been pretty sure that hefting bales of hay would kill her. All that had done was make her stronger. It was amazing, though, how quickly she lost those muscles when Eliseo came on board. But she wasn't going to offer to do it again.

  Henry and Heath were relaxing in front of the television. Last fall and winter it had been football, then it was NASCAR and basketball, hockey, and now baseball. She was glad they enjoyed watching the games together. Rebecca had come into the bedroom with Polly to watch something, but was finally in her own bed. With Kayla gone, Rebecca was sticking close to Polly. She went into her room at nine thirty without any prompting and the last time Polly checked, her light was off. The poor girl was trying to stay engaged with the world, but had to work at it.

  Obiwan stretched out along Polly's back and she held still when his claws tangled up in her hair. She reached around, tugged them loose and then scooted up on her pillow, away from danger. She reached up to turn the light off and swiped her phone open to look at the time. A buzzing startled her and she realized that it was ringing.

  "Hello?" she asked softly.

  "I want to come home, Polly," Kayla said.

  "Oh honey." Polly turned over and sat up in bed. "Where are you? We want you to come home, too."

  "I'm not supposed to tell you. Stephanie let me call because I wouldn't stop crying, but I can't tell you where we are."

  "Can I talk to Stephanie?" Polly asked.

  "No. She won't talk to anybody. She wants you to tell Jeff to stop texting her."

  "I'm not going to do that. He misses her terribly. You both are very important to us. Rebecca is lonely without you."

  Kayla cried some more. "I keep telling Stephanie that Rebecca is the only best friend I've ever had."

  "Are you two safe?" Polly asked.

  "Yeah. It's a nice hotel. There's a swimming pool and everything. Stephanie said it’s like a vacation."

  "That's a good way to look at it. But I really want to talk to her."

  "She doesn't want to. She says she's afraid you'll talk her into doing something stupid like coming back to Bellingwood."

  "That's not stupid, Kayla. We're your family and we love you. We'll do everything we can to keep you safe."

  "Stephanie says that isn't enough if he's out of jail. He'll find us if anyone knows where we are. She says that it's like he can read minds or something. Can I talk to Rebecca?"

  "She's in bed and her light is off. Can you call tomorrow? A little earlier?"

  Kayla must have put her hand over the phone because the question she posed to Stephanie was muffled.

  "Stephanie says this is the only time I can call. Please? I need to tell her that I'm sorry I left without talking to her."

  "Oh Kayla, please let me talk to Stephanie."

  "Would you wake Rebecca up first? I just want to tell her that she's my best friend and I'll never forget her."

  Polly was already walking toward the door. She knocked on Rebecca's door and opened it. "Rebecca? Are you sleeping?"

  "No," came Rebecca's voice in the dark.

  "Kayla is on the phone and she wants to talk to you."

  Rebecca sat straight up in her bed, her body silhouetted in the light from the street. Polly strode across the room and handed over the phone, then covering it, said, "Stephanie won't let me talk to her. See if you can either make that happen or find out where they are. Anything. Please?"

  "Hello?" Rebecca said into the phone. "Kayla?"

  "I miss you, too," Rebecca said and then listened. "We're so worried about you. Does anyone know where you are?"

  The conversation alternated between pauses and Rebecca speaking. She talked about kids at school and working at the Bell House. She told Kayla about the body in the ground and then about Polly finding a girl on the highway. She asked Kayla in fifty different ways where they were, but never got a clear response. Stephanie had that story on lockdown.

  "You have to finish seventh grade," Rebecca finally said. "How are you going to do that if you don't go to school?" She listened and then said, looking at Polly, "You can live here at Sycamore House. Nobody can get in and Polly will make sure we get to school every day and she'll pick us up so you're safe. She’d even ask one of the cute deputies to keep an eye on us when we're walking from the school to her truck. If you come back right away, Andrew and I can help you make up your schoolwork. I'll bet the teachers won't even make you do some of it if they know what you've been through."

  She listened again and then said, "But I don't want to hang up. You can't go away again. I want you to be here for my birthday party. It's no fun without you. This isn't fair." Rebecca started to cry. "I can't lose one more person in my life."

  Polly sat down on the bed and put her arm around Rebecca's shoulders.

  "I'm sorry," Rebecca said to Kayla. "Mom would tell me that I'm being dramatic. I know this isn't about me. But I don't want to go to eighth grade without you here. You have to come home."

  As she listened to Kayla, Rebecca took a deep breath. "Okay. I know. I love you, too. Call me again, will you?"

  She handed the phone to Polly, who jammed it to her ear. "Kayla?"

  The phone clicked off as she listened and the phone call was over. Polly dialed it right back and slumped when the call was rejected. They could keep doing this all night, but Stephanie would just turn the phone off.

  "How are you doing?" she asked Rebecca.

  "Better, I think. At least I know that she's out there. Do you think they'll call back?"

  "I don't know," Polly said. "We’ll keep trying. Stephanie told Kayla to have me ask Jeff to quit texting them. I think he's getting to her."

  "Good," Rebecca said. "I know I shouldn't say anything bad about her, but she's being stubborn and it's going to hurt Kayla's future."

  "We can never understand the horrors of what Stephanie faced with her father," Polly said.
"And we can't expect her to make decisions based on our view of life. She can only do what she thinks is best to protect both herself and her sister. I would do whatever it took to make sure you were safe, even if it meant that I had to go on the run with you."

  "We'd take Henry, though, right?" Rebecca asked. "Because we need him."

  Polly laughed. "Okay, we'll take Henry, too. Now, lie down and try to get some sleep. Morning comes whether we're ready for it or not."

  "I've never asked you to do this before, but would you stay here for a while?" Rebecca asked. "Every time I start to go to sleep, I think about Kayla being gone and then I wake up again."

  "Scoot over," Polly said, thankful for big beds in this house. She lay down on top of the blankets and snuggled up to Rebecca, wrapping an arm around her, blankets and all. "Now relax your toes, one by one." Polly deliberately slowed her breathing. "Next think about relaxing the top of your feet and then your ankles." She continued to breathe, speaking softly and slowly as she encouraged Rebecca to relax her body. It was a trick her father had taught her years ago on the nights she was too nervous to sleep because of a test. He'd sit beside her bed and talk her through her muscles, relaxing each one until she drifted off. They never got much further than her fingers before she was out like a light.

  Tonight, Polly felt Rebecca relax against her before they even got to the girl's knees. That didn't take long. She let herself relax, smelling the freshly shampooed hair against the pillow. Polly didn't want to move. This moment felt too special. If Rebecca never asked her to comfort her like this again, it would be okay because she had this moment and would never forget it.

  ~~~

  Polly woke up to darkness and silence in the house. The cats had fallen asleep at the end of the bed, but the dogs were elsewhere. She peeled herself away from Rebecca and waited quietly while her daughter roused, turned over and fell back to sleep. Polly left the bed and tiptoed across the room, shuddering when her toe hit a stack of books on the floor. No matter how many times Polly asked Rebecca to clean her room, it was never going to be free of clutter.

  Slipping out of the door, she pulled it shut, leaving enough room for the cats to move in and out, then went across the living room into the kitchen. Polly was restless and had no desire to lie down in her own bed, then toss and turn until she wore herself out. If she remembered correctly, there was still a container of chocolate chip cookies in the freezer. Polly opened the refrigerator door for light and then opened the freezer. Just as she put her hand on the chocolate chip cookies, she realized that there was something even better - a piece of frozen chocolate cake left over from last weekend when Hayden was here. She chuckled. That was perfect. With that and a glass of milk, Polly headed for Henry's office. At least there she could turn lights on and not worry about disturbing anyone, and Henry's office chair was quite comfortable.

  Henry was tidy. His desk was tidy; his truck was always tidy. Because he was always cleaning up after her in the house, Polly's shame took over and she did her best to clean her own messes before he got to them. Never once did he say anything to make her feel guilty and maybe that was the worst of it. He was much too nice about her failings, accepting them without judgment.

  She laughed to herself. Women would think she was crazy for complaining and Polly knew that it was her own guilt that made her want him to get annoyed about her messes, but she had what she had. He wasn't going to change and be less nice to her, so she'd just have to make do.

  Polly turned around in the chair. Tucked into a corner of one the shelves he'd built in here was the old lock box that had belonged to her father. She wasn't sure why she felt a need to connect to him tonight, but in this box held the things he'd believed to be important. She put the box on Henry's desk and stared at it while taking a sip of milk.

  Rats. She'd forgotten to grab a fork, but that wouldn’t stop her. Polly picked up the cake and took a bite, leaning over the desk as crumbles spilled out of her mouth. With one hand holding the cake, she patted around the side of the desk for Henry’s box of tissues. When her hand hit it, she yanked out three and placed them under the cake before putting it back down. Two more tissues to wipe her lips and she was set. Instead of throwing them in his trash can, though, Polly needed to remember to take them back to the kitchen. Those animals could find the scent of food wherever it was hidden in the house and before she got up the next morning, they'd have shredded tissue all over Henry's office.

  She turned the key in the lockbox and opened the top, letting it fall back on the desk. The last time she'd dug through these things was when they were trying to understand who Ruth Ann Marshall was ... before she revealed herself as Polly's birth mother.

  Polly put her hand on top of the pile of papers and photographs in the box and shut her eyes. Those revelations had been horrifying, but she'd learned she could get through just about anything. Especially with Henry standing beside her. One of his zippered hoodies was draped around the back of the chair and Polly lifted it off and put it on, tugging it across her chest. She brought the fabric up to her nose and breathed in the scent of him. Did he have any idea how much she loved him?

  Did Polly's parents love each other like that? They must have, but they hadn't had much time together. Polly remembered her mother, and while those memories were wonderful, it was her father who had been there for everything Polly experienced. All through the end of her elementary school years, junior high, high school and college. He'd kept an eye out for her with boyfriends, making sure she always knew how important she was to him and that no boy had better treat her less than she deserved. He'd sat through concerts and gone to parent-teacher conferences, never complaining that he had to do those things alone.

  But his life hadn't revolved around her either. He was busy with the farm and loved spending time in his shop. Polly wasn't comfortable thinking about him with other women, but he'd let her know there were a few along the way. He had just never found the one who was so special to make his wife. She wondered if he had lived longer what might have been different. They were just becoming friends, rather than father and daughter, when he died. Polly still felt as if there was a wealth of knowledge about him that she'd never uncover.

  As much as he would have loved being part of Sycamore House's renovation, he wouldn't have been able to contain himself at the opportunity to work on the Bell House. She smiled. What fun it would have been to have him there with her every day. When he got older, she would have asked him to move in, but until then, he'd have had his hands in everything they did to restore that old house to its former beauty.

  She brushed a tear from her cheek. Sometimes she really missed him. Tears didn't come as often anymore, but every once in a while, something reminded her that he was gone. Polly pulled out the passport that she'd wondered about three years ago. She still had no clue as to why he'd traveled to England and France and wondered if she would ever know. The necklace of her mother's was still in its box and she rubbed her thumb over the clasp. Photos of her family when she was a child. Polly couldn't help herself and turned to glance back at the bookshelf again, seeing the photo album that Ruth Ann had given to her. That could stay where it was. Maybe someday she'd be able to look at it again and not be disgusted at what that woman had tried to do. She'd insinuated herself into Polly's family many years before, and then tried to do so again with Polly two years ago. Never again would she be allowed near those that Polly loved.

  Polly touched the folded edge of a love letter that she knew by heart. Her father had written beautiful words to his bride to be. She opened an envelope filled with dried rose petals from the bouquet he'd given his wife and daughter when they came home from the hospital. Everett had saved the sweetest things. Polly picked up a manila envelope, knowing without looking that it contained certificates from all of her music contests. He loved to hear her practice, even when it was just scales. Polly always thought he was a little nutty about that, but it certainly had kept her returning to the flute night after night. H
e was a very smart man. She hadn't tried that tactic with Rebecca yet. Practicing was still a challenge. Polly needed to take her flute back out pretty soon and get ready for the summer band.

  Her fingernail snagged on the ragged edge of a piece of paper and she lifted a small stack of papers. When she couldn't find what it was she'd touched, she flipped the stack over and saw a piece of paper caught in the tape of an old family picture.

  "What's this?"

  "What's this, is right."

  Polly nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Henry's voice. She looked up at him guiltily as he walked into the office. "I couldn't sleep and was thinking about Dad."

  "And eating chocolate cake at my desk, no less."

  "Milk, too." She held up the glass with a grin.

  "What sent you into Rebecca's room? Did something upset her?"

  "I'm sorry," Polly said. "I forgot to tell you." She shook her head. "No, that's not right. I just fell asleep. Kayla called and wanted to talk to Rebecca."

  "Were you able to find out where they were?" he asked. "Did you talk to Stephanie?"

  "No. Poor Kayla wants to come home, but Stephanie is terrified. She's just not thinking right and I don't know how to help her if she won't let me. I can't get past her fear."

  He walked over to stand beside her and stroked her hair. "I think it's a good sign that she let Kayla call Rebecca, don't you?"

  "But it's not enough." Polly leaned against him. "I just wish I knew where they were."

  "Give her time. The longer she has to think about the choices she's making, the better decisions she'll make. The first choice to leave Bellingwood was made out of fear. Stephanie needed space to think. She's a smart girl and will figure it out." He reached over and closed the box, then put it back on the shelf. "Come to bed with me. The dogs miss you."

  "Just the dogs?" she asked.

  He laughed. "So far. If they knew you were in here eating dessert, they'd be jealous too." Henry picked up the tissues and empty glass, then swept chocolate cake crumbs into his hand. "You're a slob," he said with a laugh.