by Downs,Adele
“Sometimes I wanted you,” Jimmy continued. He looked at the floor and a trace of color returned to his cheeks. “There were even times I thought in some crazy way I could replace my father after he’d gone.”
He shook his head. “Other times I wanted you to just…disappear. What was I supposed to do about you? How did you fit into my life after Dad died? I didn’t know.”
Victoria didn’t know, either. She’d never quite figured out how to be stepmother to a man almost her age.
Suddenly, through a veil of overwhelming weariness, her life with James seemed a long time ago.
Jimmy’s eyes pleaded. “You blindsided me with the Carlson deal and I got mad. All I ever wanted was to be a doctor. And Carlson was supposed to be my partner. Instead, he ended up being yours. The irony was just too much.”
Victoria turned to the attorneys. “Has Jimmy been charged with a crime?”
Nathan Solomon squinted from behind his stylish glasses. “No. Dr. Van Orr in no way participated in criminal activity. He didn’t learn about the crimes until afterward.”
“What are his chances of walking out of here?”
The other attorney spoke. “The D.A. has agreed to immunity from prosecution as an accessory after the fact in exchange for his testimony against Flynn and the others. We’ll bring Flynn in sooner or later.”
Jimmy took another gulp of his soft drink and pushed the can away. He stared at Victoria with weary eyes. “Will you ever forgive me?”
Victoria reached across the table and took his hands in hers. His fingers felt cold and damp inside her palms. “I’m sorry I made you feel cornered.” She grazed her bottom lip with her teeth and sighed. “And just for the record, Jimmy, I’m very fond of you. I was confused sometimes about our relationship, too.” She squeezed his hands and let go. “But it’s all clear to me now.”
Victoria stood and faced the two attorneys. “If the D.A. has any doubts about Dr. Van Orr’s value to the community, tell her he’s the new medical director of the James Van Orr Foundation for victims of family violence. He has a lot of hard work ahead of him.”
Chapter Nineteen
Six weeks later
“Hot momma.”
Beverly Orange grinned and opened the screen door for Victoria and Pirate.
Victoria carried the birdcage into the airy cottage and lowered it to the floor. She set down her bag, turned to give Beverly a long hug, and then kissed her friend on the cheek.
“I’ve missed you. Pirate has, too. I thought maybe you’d like to see him.”
“Apple of my eye,” Pirate said, stretching his wings before settling down again on his perch. He stuck his beak beneath his tail and nibbled, dismissing the devoted attention of his fans.
Beverly leaned over and tapped her finger against the metal bars of the cage. “I’ve missed him almost as much as you. Hey, boy.” She pointed to another spot in the room. “Let’s put him on the table across from the sofa where he can see us.”
Victoria followed Beverly’s slow gait. Her friend had lost the spring in her step since her release from the hospital, along with the extra pounds she had carried. Victoria winced at the visible changes. She knew all too well how Benjamin Slater could damage a woman.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back. I made lemonade.”
“Let me help you.”
Beverly frowned. “I’m not an invalid, Vic. Sit tight.” She turned from the room and headed into the kitchen. Victoria’s eyes followed the too-big peasant skirt that hung from her hips, and registered that her ankle bracelets and red toe polish were gone.
When Beverly returned, she placed napkins on the coffee table and handed Victoria a tall, cool glass. “Guess we should enjoy the last lemonade of the season. I’ll be making cider soon.”
Victoria rolled the tumbler between her hands to keep them steady and listened to the tinkling sounds the ice made. After taking a sip, she set the glass on a napkin and waited for the anxiety to pass while pretending to watch Pirate in his cage.
Beverly placed her drink on a side table and reached out to touch Victoria’s knee. “Don’t ever play poker, dear heart. You can’t hide your tells.”
“I used to be good at keeping emotion off my face.”
Bev’s eyes softened and she offered a wistful smile. “I’ll be all right. I have my husband and my friends to support me. Which is more than I can say for you, considering you’ve been hiding since the fire. You’ve been avoiding Steve, too. Why?”
There was so much Victoria wanted to say, it took her a minute to compose her thoughts. “Do you remember when you asked me how James died?”
Beverly nodded. “My question upset you. I was sorry about that.”
Victoria took a deep breath and let the memory of her last moments with James wash over her. “The simple answer would have been ‘heart attack.’ But I couldn’t bring myself to talk about what actually happened.”
Beverly shifted closer.
Victoria braced herself to retell the story that had haunted her since the night James died. “I want you to close your eyes.” She waited until Beverly complied, and then closed hers, too.
Victoria took a breath and let it out. “Imagine that you and your husband are seated on the sofa. You’re chatting, drinking wine, and sharing the details of your day. The evening news is on the television with the volume turned low. It’s just an average day, and nothing particularly noteworthy happens…until your husband drops his wineglass on the floor. The accident is so unexpected, and so unlike him, that you look down at the pool of red wine on the white carpet and wonder how he could have been so careless. You reach for your napkin and begin blotting the stain.”
Victoria bit her bottom lip with the painful memory. “When you look at your husband again, he’s unconscious, still clutching his arm. In that horrible instant you realize that while you were wasting time on spilt wine, you lost your chance to say good-bye to the man you loved.”
Silence filled the room. Even Pirate seemed to sense the solemnity of the moment, and stayed quiet in his cage.
“Just like that, the only person who’d ever loved me was gone.” Victoria’s voice cracked beneath the guilt and loss she’d carried like an anvil inside her chest.
Beverly took Victoria’s hand and held it close, warming her palm while giving her courage.
The last of Victoria’s story came out on a whisper. “There were no last words for us. That will remain the biggest regret of my life.” She went still for a moment, escaping to the quiet place inside herself she’d relied upon since childhood. Tears slid down her cheeks.
Beverly pulled a napkin from under her glass and handed it to Victoria. “There was nothing you could have done. It wasn’t your fault.”
Victoria took the napkin and wiped her eyes. She hated feeling sorry for herself.
“You were with him at the end. He wasn’t alone when he passed.”
Victoria bowed her head. “Then he left me all alone. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to be on my own again.”
Beverly stroked Victoria’s shoulder. “But you found healthy ways to cope. You honored him while you mourned.”
Victoria’s tears returned with the guilt she had carried. “But I was so angry with him for leaving me. For months, I was furious.” She shook her head. “How can you love someone and still be raging inside over something that wasn’t their fault?” Victoria stared up at her friend. “That’s why I kept my distance from Steve.”
Confusion filled Beverly’s expression, and then understanding dawned. “Because you got angry with him, too, for losses that weren’t his fault.”
Victoria wiped away the last of her tears. “Until I could work things through in my mind, any chance Steve and I had for a relationship would be ruined.”
She stood from her seat and began to pace. “I can survive on my own. I thought I was strong, but James’s death tested me almost beyond endurance. And then my father…” She shuddered at the mention of him. “When we almost lost you when t
he Van Orr Collection was destroyed, and Steve’s business turned to ashes, it was too much.”
Victoria retrieved the leather bag she’d left at the foot of the couch. “I had to do something positive to channel my anger in another direction.” She reached inside her handbag, pulled out a brown envelope, and handed it to her friend.
Beverly shuffled through the legal documents and then read the first line aloud, “The James Van Orr Foundation: A Fresh Start for Women and Children.”
“I’m going into the restoration business, too.” Victoria smiled, and hope filled her. “I want you to serve on the board of directors. I need you. The community needs you.” The future seemed, all at once, an exciting place to go.
“I’m converting a section of the Van Orr mansion into a suite of offices for administration and fundraising to support women’s shelters. The gym will be reserved for boxing and self-defense lessons. Volunteers have agreed to teach classes. All the proper licensing, inspections, and insurance has been approved.”
Beverly’s eyes grew wide. She leafed through the papers again. “You seem to have thought this all through. It’s a done deal.”
Victoria reached to smooth her hair, which had finally begun to regain its former luster. She dropped her hand to her side.
Pirate rattled a toy inside his cage.
“My father is dead,” Victoria said. “And do you know what his dying word was?”
Beverly shook her head.
“Slut. Can you imagine? We were about to die and that’s all he could think of to say to me.”
She raised her hands in question. “How was I supposed to go back to Steve when I was seething inside?” Victoria returned to the couch and sat on the edge of the cushions. “After James died, I wanted to start a charity in his name to honor his memory. Now I want to do it as much for me as for him. I want to prove to others that with a little luck and hard work it’s possible to live a productive life, even when you come from nothing.” She tapped an open palm with her fist. “We can build new lives. Better ones.”
“Of course we can,” Beverly replied softly. She shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. “What does Jimmy Van Orr have to say about turning the family mansion into a suite of offices?”
“We’re making it work. Jimmy was my first recruit.” She smiled inside as she recalled the blowout that had set her idea into motion, and, ironically, began healing their relationship. “He’ll be a powerful ally and can enlist valuable support from the medical community.”
Beverly agreed. “Steve will want to be part of this. Have you talked to him?”
Victoria’s chest constricted at the mention of Steve’s name. There was an ache inside her that wouldn’t let go since she’d sent him away. “No. I haven’t seen him since the police solved the crimes.”
Beverly leaned forward and met her eyes. “Go see him. Right now. Steve loves you. Don’t throw that away. You said you want to help others build a better life. Do that for yourself first. ”
Victoria looked down at her lap and let out a sigh. She didn’t want to let Steve go, despite what she’d told him. She’d been…happy with him. Not just content, safe, and cared for, but happy.
She met her friend’s eyes and phantom images of Beverly’s bruised, torn skull chased the moment. “I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am for what happened. I feel responsible for everything. It was my father who hurt you. The consignment was mine. If it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t be suffering and out of a job.”
“What are you talking about?” Beverly took another sip of lemonade. “You had no control over your father. And as soon as I’m feeling ninety percent, I’m going back to work with Steve.”
Victoria couldn’t hide her surprise. “I’m glad your relationship with Steve survived. But why not wait till you’re fully healed?”
Beverly chuckled. “Have you ever known anyone to feel one hundred percent at any given time? We’re always coping with heartbreak or misfortune in one form or another. We deal with what life brings and move on.”
Beverly took another sip of her beverage and licked her mouth. “Look, I’ve been battered, but I’m not beaten. If I let this incident wreck my life, what will I do for the rest of it? Stay home and make apple cider? Or wait for visits from busy friends?” Beverly shook her head. “No, thanks. I miss my antiques. For now I’m letting my body heal. Then it’s good-bye house. I’m going back where I’m happiest—Carlson’s Antiques Emporium.”
“That all makes sense, and I’m glad you feel that way…but you seem…different. You’re limping and you’ve lost a lot of weight.” Victoria worried there was more to the story than Beverly was letting on.
Beverly chortled with laughter, and suddenly, the old Bev returned. “I’ve been taking care of myself, silly. Getting back into shape, so I’ll be stronger.” She swept hair away from her forehead, exposing a shiny, pink gash. “Look, I’m not pretending I haven’t been traumatized. I’ll wear this scar the rest of my life to prove it. My hip still aches from the fallen debris after Slater attacked me and knocked me to the floor. But I’m looking ahead.”
She leveled a stare. “And you’re looking to the future, too, right? Isn’t that why you started the Van Orr Foundation?” Beverly rapped a knuckle against Victoria’s upper arm. “You’re stronger than anyone I know, and tougher than you give yourself credit for. You’re reinventing your life and helping others at the same time. That’s pretty heady stuff. Slater can’t hurt you ever again. You have a good man who loves you, loyal friends, and a sizable inheritance.” She waved her hands. “You’re free.”
Victoria smiled as the truth of Beverly’s words sank in, and the weight of the shame she’d carried lifted.
“I’m going back to work to help Steve rebuild his business,” Beverly continued. “He’s forgiven me, and he needs me.” She leveled an accusatory stare. “And he needs you, too. Let go of the past. Give in to your feelings.”
Victoria couldn’t help but laugh, despite the gravity of the conversation. “Clearly, you’re as nosy as ever. Always butting in.” She leaned over to hug her friend. “But I love you for it.”
Pirate cawed and hopped around on his perch. “Holy smokes.” The bird stretched his neck toward the women. “Sight for sore eyes.”
The women grinned at one another.
“Get ninety percent soon,” Victoria said.
*****
Victoria dropped Pirate off at home, changed her clothes, and drove to Carlson’s Antiques Emporium. She parked her car on the street and walked the macadam path connecting the store to the ruined warehouse in search of Steve.
Machinery crushed concrete and metal, sending vibrations through the ground and into the soles of her boots. Bulldozers and Bobcats scooped blackened remains and dumped tangled debris into haulers. Soot and dirt filled the air, burning her eyes and tickling her nostrils. The back of her tongue tasted ash.
Up ahead, Steve leaned against a shovel with one ankle crossed behind the other. He watched as trucks carted away the ruins of his building, the Van Orr collections, and his eclectic store stock. “The best merchandise on the East Coast,” he’d once told her.
All gone now.
Victoria whisked dust from the air around her face and continued moving forward in her jeans and western boots. When she reached Steve’s side, the look he gave her was filled with sadness and hope. “You’re back.”
The dark smudges across his chin and cheeks and his dusty shirt and denims reminded her of the first time she’d met him, when she’d mistaken him for a janitor. She smiled up at him and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. He placed his hand over hers and held it there, his return gaze filled with forgiveness and understanding beneath his pain, despite the way she had treated him.
She’d been blind to what she should have seen all along—that she and Steve should have clung to one another during their time of loss and sorrow. Looking into Steve’s handsome face, she understood he’d been there for her, if she’d only reache
d out. Maybe he needed her, too.
She would never let him down again.
Steve dropped the shovel, gestured toward the shop, and walked beside her down the drive. The noise level decreased enough to carry on a conversation.
“I found a buyer for the Rohmer doll and her trunk,” he said. “As soon as the police release it from evidence, the collection is going to a doll museum in the South. The Rohmer was the only thing left of the Van Orr Collection, and the commission will be enough to pay my insurance deductible and a few expenses. The rest of the money will go to you.”
Steve unlocked the door. “I doubt we’ll see a dime of restitution. Flynn is back in jail. And the guys at Pinnacle are ruined. So is Katherine Sterling. They’ll be in jail a long time over this mess. Our insurance companies will be untying knots while they sort things out.”
He pushed the door to the shop open, disarmed the security system, and stood back to allow Victoria entrance.
She flipped on the lights and walked to the center of the oversized room, taking in the stillness and the emptiness.
All of the things that had first tied her to Steve Carlson were gone.
Her dead husband’s things.
She turned back to Steve. “It’s almost like they were never here.”
Steve met her in the middle of the room and touched the back of her hand. When she didn’t flinch or move away, he lifted his fingers to her face and traced her cheek. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of skin against skin. When she opened her eyes and lifted them to his, she saw longing in his gaze that tore her heart.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have been here for you. You’ve lost so much.”
He brushed his fingers over the line of her jaw. “I haven’t lost everything…have I?”
Regret closed her throat and muted her voice. She shook her head.
His blue eyes shone with hope. “I’m here. And so are you. Everything we’ve lost can be restored.”
Victoria linked her fingers with his. “We can start over.” Steve had never asked her for a single thing. He didn’t expect her to change or to fit some preconceived mold or lifestyle. He loved her just the way she was—a regular girl who had taken a difficult and often convoluted path to find him.