House of Guardians

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House of Guardians Page 7

by Beatrice Sand


  “Listen, sweetheart…”

  I raise my hand. “Renee is the perfect girl, doing everything by the book—Mia’s book. I am different, and the sooner all of you realize that, the better it is for everyone around here, otherwise, I might as well go back to Aunt Vera.”

  Martin leans forward and places his hand on top of mine. He looks at me with calm eyes. “I won’t let go of you, Laurel. Not now that I finally got you back into my life. I’ve been without you for too long. I watched you leave with your mother when you were four years old, and it broke my heart. I was unable to make your mother happy, and that won’t happen to me again. I will fight for you, and the only thing I want is for you to be happy and have a good future. I know I am busy with the restaurant twenty-four hours a day, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make time for my family.” He looks at me somberly. “If you want me to talk to Mia, I will. All you need to do is ask.”

  “I’m not going to the prom.”

  “Then stay home. I don’t think any boy is good enough for you anyway. By the way, what happened to the one who fixed your bike? He seemed like a decent boy.”

  “Very decent,” I mutter. I look up at Martin. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not going anyway.”

  He squeezes my hand. “Listen, no one is comparing you to Renee. I just want to know about your interest in a course of study, is that so unreasonable for a father? I don’t want you ending up behind the counter of a department store, just because you couldn’t find an education you liked.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You do know you are insulting an entire segment of the female population now, don’t you?”

  He shrugs. “There is nothing wrong with being a sales clerk, but I’ve known from the first time I saw you that you were born to do greater things. As a father, I have that privilege.”

  “Then prepare yourself for a big disappointment, Dad, your daughter is not going to be curing deadly diseases.”

  “Hmm, that is exactly what I had in mind. What a bummer, I’ll have to dream up something else for you then.” He stares at the ceiling again, and a smile appears on his face. “World peace? How does that sound?”

  I smile. “I would love that. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.” I slap my forehead. “Stupid me.”

  “Well, it’s settled then?”

  “I’ll definitely think about it. As soon as I’ve finished that crappy report about the Hellenes. The teachers at school just don’t understand that I have bigger and better things to do.” The chair legs scrape across the kitchen floor as I get up.

  “Laurel?”

  “Hmm?” I dump my mug into the sink.

  “After finals, I expect some answers from you, along with brochures of prospective colleges.”

  “Got it.”

  Shaking his head, he takes a sip of his coffee and says, “What on earth did I do to deserve such a stubborn daughter?”

  “I’m not stubborn, I’m alternative. I don’t like to follow the crowd.”

  He gives me a little smile. “You always get carried away like that.”

  “And you’re an idealist.” I burst out laughing. “World peace…” I lean over and give him a kiss on his stubbly cheek. Secretly, I’m proud of him, and I feel my chest swell up. He will fight for me, even against Mia if need be.

  “Martin, are you still here? You know I’m waiting for that flower arrangement, don’t you? I can’t go myself, the check-out is about to start.”

  Mia is standing on the kitchen doorstep and I can see how upset she looks. The poor man can’t even read a newspaper in peace. Mia is just a small woman, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she had fangs.

  “I’ll go in a minute,” he says tired.

  “I’ll go,” I say spontaneously. “What do you need me to do?”

  Mia gives me a sharp look. “Don’t you have homework to do?”

  “Yes, later on. I just wanted to go to the beach first, but I don’t mind driving to the city.”

  “Well, please. There’s a flower arrangement ready to be placed on the reception desk.”

  “Don’t they usually bring the arrangements to the hotel?”

  “I’m not waiting for them. They could take all day, and I am expecting the first guests early because of the nice weather.”

  Typical Mia, a total control freak without patience. Always nervous that something will be forgotten, or annoyed when everything doesn’t happen according to her timetable. I grab an apple from the fruit bowl. “Which florist?”

  My heart is beating out of rhythm, as I approach the flower shop. From the corner of my eye, I look up and down the facade of the Victorian building next door. Antiques & Brocante, it says on the cast-iron sign. I worry that I will never again be able to pass the dusky pink townhouse without my blood pressure going sky-high. The thought that Sam was here with his mother and came after me after spotting me across the street makes me feel weak inside.

  And he has ditched you again.

  I study a set of crystal decanters in the window and then slowly shift my gaze. It looks cozy inside, a bit dark, but there are tea lights burning in glass vases. Sam’s mother sure did decorate her shop with style. I see two women talking at a refectory table. One is sitting with her back toward me, but I can see the face of the other one. She looks chic, and her black hair is twisted into an artistic roll. I wonder if she is Sam’s mother.

  Suddenly, she turns her head and looks outside. With my heart pounding, I step away quickly as though she had just caught me stealing. I rush into the flower shop.

  “Good morning, what can I do for you?” the florist asks, busily putting together a mixed bouquet.

  “I’m here to pick up a flower arrangement for The Magnolia Inn.” Probably a gawdy and pompous-looking one, I want to add.

  “Ah, for Mia. I was going to bring it by later this morning.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s in a hurry, and she was kind of hoping it might be done already.”

  The florist glances at his watch. “Give me fifteen minutes. It only needs some feathers and pearl pins that just came in. Do you have some errands to run by any chance?”

  Before I realize it, I hear myself say, “I’ll check out the store next door.”

  “Say hi to Phaedra for me.”

  Phaedra. Sam’s mother’s name is Phaedra. It’s just a name, but I feel like I just broke into Sam’s home and went through all of his stuff.

  The door opens with a cheerful jingle, and I immediately draw the attention of the women sitting at the table. And just as immediately, I regret my rash action.

  “Good morning,” I hear an affected voice say. In the background, joyful violins are playing. The air is filled with a sultry perfume.

  “Hello.” I try hard to sound casual, but I am painfully aware of my bummy sweatshirt and messy hair. There is probably still soymilk on my upper lip.

  The woman—Phaedra?—with the striking cheekbones and the big brown eyes pushes her chair back and stands up.

  And right away I know. It’s pure instinct, but I just know that this elegant woman is Sam’s mother. Not that they look very much alike, but something in her appearance reminds me of Sam instantly—not only is she tall and gracious, she also radiates an air of pride and superiority. She looks at me with a friendly, but reserved expression.

  “Are you looking for anything special?”

  Yes, your son. “Ehm, no. Is it okay if I just look around?”

  “Of course. If I can help with anything, just let me know.”

  Self-conscious, I immerse myself in a corner with rustic pillar candles, lanterns and greeting cards. Fortunately, a mother with a wailing child in the back of the store becomes the new center of attention. Sam’s mother probably doesn’t like screaming children in her store. When the women start talking again, I turn the rack of cards while bits and pieces of their conversa
tion reach me. I feel like I’m eavesdropping.

  “You worry too much, Phaedra. You know your son, he’s a rational thinker. Just let him blow off some steam, he knows his responsibilities.”

  “Last week he came to see me here. One minute we were talking about his studies over coffee, the next minute he is storming out of the store. He went after a girl.”

  “Really? Did you ask him about it?”

  “Of course. He says we are not to worry and that it was a protective thing. I called Olivia too, and she says everything is fine as well. Then again, Olivia adores my son and she will always take his side. All he seems to be interested in lately is that band of his, but if he’s going after common girls too…”

  “Phaedra, he wanted to protect a girl. That was all. Guarding is in his blood.”

  “Olympia, he’s been called to account! For the second time.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. He has been seen with her a couple of times now.”

  “Did they give him a warning?”

  “We don’t know anything yet. He locks himself into the cabin. George and I have an appointment tomorrow and then we’ll know.”

  With trembling fingers, I close a card and put it back in the rack. Suddenly, all my senses are heightened.

  “It keeps me up at night, Olympia. I am terrified that he’ll fall in love with a commoner at the last moment. The gods forbid it.”

  “Exactly, the gods forbid it. Have faith in your son, Phaedra, he knows what’s at stake.”

  The door chime sounds, and I sneak out behind the mother and her screaming child.

  Numbed, I walk back to the florist.

  8

  laurel

  “Remember tomorrow’s deadline, Miss Harper?”

  I shoot up from my lethargic position. Once again I drifted off to the two women in the antique store. It’s weeks ago, but their conversation keeps bothering me. I keep asking myself the same question over and over again—am I the commoner they were talking about? And if so, then what on earth is Sam supposed to be? A prince? Does he have royal blood?

  “Five thousand words. How are you coming along?”

  “Fine,” I say without blushing. After all, I have already read a little about the classical orders of architecture: something about Ionic and Doric columns.

  “What’s your topic?”

  “Greek art and culture.”

  “How about that, I’ll be waiting with baited breath. Well, people, I wish you all a good weekend. The last stretch.”

  I pick up my books and my bag, my head still with the women. I’m almost positive I am the one they were talking about. As I leave the classroom, I wonder why I am so obsessed with Sam Laurens? When he ditched me the first time, he at least apologized. Now he seems to have fallen off the face of the earth.

  After dinner, I rush into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I really have to hurry to get to the shelter in time. I comb my hair and braid it. I grab a scrunchie and quickly wrap it around my braid. I take my scarf and blazer from the chair and barely avoid crashing into Renee, who has suddenly turned up in my bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” she asks fiercely.

  “Hi, ehm, volunteering.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I am running late and…”

  “Sam Laurens.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You heard me. What does he want from you?”

  “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, Renee. I have…”

  “Oh, stop your act already. I found out today that the two of you walked on the beach and he brought you home. And the other time you were having dinner at the restaurant.”

  “My tire was slashed! Sam gave me a ride home. And you know Martin, he never lets our friends leave on an empty stomach.”

  “I am telling you this for your own good—stay far away from him. Far. Away.”

  “Thanks, but I already have a dad.” I immediately wince at my own words, but it’s too late to take them back. Renee once shouted that she already had a mother. That was so painful for me that I promised myself to watch my words better, and now, in a moment of feeling attacked, I have broken that promise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” I sit down on my bed and think about what I know about Renee and Don. “Is it because he’s friends with Don?”

  “It’s because they don’t treat girls with respect, but maybe you’d like to find that out for yourself. Because you will.”

  “They? Plural?”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “I know Don and I also heard it from different girls that dated Bastian. I don’t know Andreas and Sam, but they’re all close friends, and they’re not likely to be any different.”

  “How do they act then?”

  Renee looks exasperated. “First they sweep you off your feet with their charm and then they leave you, right in the middle of a date. They leave without any explanation. Don did not even have the decency to end things normally between us. And every date is on their terms, you don’t have any input. This is not the type of guy you want to hang out with, trust me. They are… weird.”

  That’s exactly what Ava and Maude said as well. Renee may not know Sam, but I do, and I am realizing that he’s no better than his friend.

  I avoid the gaze of my stepsister and sling my bag onto my shoulder. This discussion is pointless anyway—Sam is no longer interested in me. “Okay, thanks. I have to go, homeless Sooke is hungry.”

  “You know what, Laurel?” She throws her hands up in the air and walks out of the room. “If you want to get your heart broken, that’s just fine with me. Your choice. But don’t come crying to me when it happens.”

  “Do you have plans for the summer?” Jules—my supervisor—asks.

  “Not yet,” I say, turning on the fire under one of the burners. “I would love to go to my aunt’s in the Netherlands, but I need to save up for a ticket first.” Everyone is still eating soup, and considering the slurping, I guess Martin’s tomato soup has met with approval. “I’ll probably do some reception work at the guesthouse and help out at the restaurant. Oh yeah, and my dad is forcing me to think about what I want to do after school.” I roll my eyes. “He wants me to create world peace.”

  Jules smiles at me. “Create peace? Is that a profession?”

  I wave dismissively. “Long story.”

  “Well, you’ve earned the credits for your forty hours of volunteer work here.”

  “Thank you, Jules, that’s a relief. Are you going anywhere for the summer?”

  “Camping. Fortunately, the kids still want to come along.”

  “We used to do that, too.” Even though my parents split up, my dad always visited me during the summers, and we would go camping. It’s one of very few happy memories I have of my parents together. That and getting a puppy for my fourth birthday. Shortly after that everything went wrong.

  “Do you still miss the Netherlands or have you completely settled into this place?”

  “I had expected to feel at home sooner because I lived here the first few years of my life. Sometimes things look familiar, but I still feel… uprooted.”

  “Well, this is a great island and you are a great girl. You will figure it out, I’m sure of it. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, how did your date turn out?”

  I check the burner. “Don’t ask.”

  “Hmm. That bad huh?”

  “He’s not who I thought he was.”

  “They never are. Men!”

  Around eight o’clock, I walk into the small kitchen to start washing the dirty dishes. I am halfway done when someone enters.

  “Hello, there. I’m bringing you more dirty plates.”

  ‘Thanks, Lou.”

  “Are you missing out on another movie or bowling night because of us old vagab
onds?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t like bowling.”

  “Then why are you tearing up?”

  “Oh, that’s a long story.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. That’s the perk of having no obligations.”

  I give him a faint smile and start scrubbing a plate in the lukewarm water.

  “What’s his name? I’ll have a heart-to-heart talk with him.”

  Lou gets a dishcloth and starts drying the dishes. Involuntarily, I smile and hand him a dripping plate. “Sam Laurens. Is it that obvious?”

  “Eyes are the windows to the soul. It’s not hard to see that someone has hurt you. And a Greek guy too, that’s bad.”

  “Greek? How do you know that?”

  “His last name.”

  It makes me laugh. “Laurens? That doesn’t sound Greek to me at all.”

  “Laurens is a bastardization of Laurentios. That means holder of a laurel wreath.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “I am from a Greek background myself, and I am a professor of philosophy. I know all there is to know about the ancient Greeks.”

  “Wow, that’s impressing.” I put the last plates and cups on the kitchen counter and pull up the plug to drain the cold water. We talk a little more and after we finish, we walk back to the common area, and I join Jules again.

  “Laurel, just one more thing about that guy of yours. Is he tall?”

  I blow out a breath of air. “He’s not mine, but okay, yes, pretty much.”

  “Good bone structure and eyes that…”

  I slam down the lid of one of the burners and give her a withering look. “Can we please talk about something else, Jules?” I keep trying to put Sam out of my mind, and Jules keeps dragging him right back in.

  Cheeks blushing, she whispers something in my ear. I stop breathing and look up. Sam is leaning casually against the wall and immediately catches my eye, not letting go.

  Stunned, I bite my lower lip and cringe when I see Lou approaching him.

 

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