Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge

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Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge Page 15

by Peggy Ann Craig


  After she bid him farewell, she turned back to the house and gingerly entered. Going from room to room she surveyed the renovation done to the interior of the home as if the fire was nonexistent. However, it did not go by unnoticed the home was not exactly as before after all. Instead, newer, whiter and improved fixtures replaced not only all the damaged parts but the undamaged ones as well. Her entire home had been restored. And she had Dexter O’Reilly to thank for that.

  Closing her eyes to the unavoidable, she retraced her footsteps back out of the house and after locking up, headed for the closest bus stop. So many questions ran through her head as the bus inched closer and closer to the downtown core of the city until it dropped her off at the doorsteps of Britten Investments. Mainly, how had Dexter commissioned the reconstruction and how in the world was she ever going to repay it?

  She glanced up at the building presently decorated for the upcoming Christmas holidays, and braced herself as she proceeded through the large glass foyer doors. It seemed every shop or office building in town had trimmed their establishments with holiday displays. Laura tried to allow their festive appearances to lift her holiday mood, but it was nowhere to be found.

  Up on the tenth floor, Cara greeted her warmly as she entered the small outer office. “Is Dexter in, I need to speak with him?”

  “Yeah, he sure is. You want me to buzz him?” Thankful she was given a choice, Laura smiled her gratitude.

  “That would defeat the whole purpose of my speaking with him because we both no he would direct you to throw me out on my back side.”

  Cara grinned then turned to a large donut from which she proceeded to take a huge bite, pretending not to have noticed Laura’s entry. Turning her attention to the closed door blocking Dexter from view, she took a deep breath. Only this morning she had felt it was too soon to confront him after their rendezvous at the cottage, but here she was doing exactly that. Not surprisingly, her nerves were drawn taut as she closed the distance and swung open his office door.

  Upon her entrance, his head came up from some forms he was studying to view his visitor. Thoroughly expecting to see Cara he clearly was taken aback to see Laura stride across the carpeted floor toward him. A troubled looked crossed his face.

  The very evident disdain carved across his face had Laura charging straight into gratitude. The sooner it was spoken, the sooner she could leave. “I’m not sure how you managed it, but thank you for having my home renovated.”

  His brows dipped, but his expression remained unchanged. “What are you talking about?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me when we were up at the cottage?”

  “Tell you what, exactly?”

  Ignoring him, she continued, “I am entirely grateful and—and forever in your debt. I have no money to repay—”

  At that, he leaped angrily to his feet. “Your money and the generous investors who contributed to your shelter, are sitting in ashes in the ruins of that house. It wasn’t your gratitude I was seeking.”

  Stone-faced, she stared at him. “Then why did you do it?”

  “Purely for compensation sake, so don’t go putting some stupid romantic attachment to this.”

  That hurt, but Laura would not be intimidated. “There’s no fear of that, Mr. O’Reilly, you made your feelings on that subject very clear.”

  Staring her down hard, he did not look away until at last he pushed angrily from his desk. “I was able to pull some strings.”

  Her brows puckered. “Strings? What kind of strings?”

  “I am very resourceful, Ms. Witherow, when it comes to business dealings.”

  “And shrewd, I’m sure,” she rudely added. “What did you do, bully the insurance company into paying out the proceeds?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Whatever the means to get the job done.”

  A chill crept along her spine. However, it was a chill of sorrow rather than fear. Sighing in exasperation, she pulled the conversation back to her reason for being there. “However, or whatever, you did to bring about the restoration I am here to say thank you, whether you’ll accept it or not. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

  “I believe that was my intention when I returned home to mother’s that day after you stormed in here demanding your money back from the investment. However, when I arrived you were already gone and mother refused to tell me where.”

  Dazed, she simply looked at him with her mouth hanging open.

  Sighing heavily, he dropped back down into his chair. “I asked you once to trust me, and I have never gone back on a promise. I don’t mix words. When I say something, I mean it. I told you I’d look after it and everything would be all right. However, you ran before I had the chance to tell you.”

  She stared at the top of his head as he returned to the forms scattered across his desk. Conceding his words had Laura feeling justly mortified. “I’m sorry. It is easier for me to be grateful than it is to trust someone. I’ve had to rely on myself since dad’s death and admittedly it’s been tough. Perhaps I’ve become a bit cynical. My faith has taken a bit of bruising. It’s been difficult for me to hand over.”

  He looked up then, holding her eyes with his own in a silent understanding before uttering, “I suppose it is.”

  “Though you may never accept it, I truly am thankful. Without you, I could have never repaired the damages.”

  “I told you I didn’t want your thanks.” he gruffly uttered, then added, “However, you will promise me that you will never allow something like this to happen again and you’ll keep a better watch on your financial ledger.”

  Perturbed, she replied, “I didn’t allow something like this to happen. It was an accident.”

  “A preventable accident,” he growled. “Life isn’t about taking unnecessary chances.”

  “I disagree. Life is all about taking chances.”

  Their eyes met, before he turned away annoyed. “Even at the risk of getting hurt?”

  For some reason, she knew there was a double meaning in his question. With a shaky, but nevertheless confident voice, she told him, “Yes.”

  With a scowl, he brushed her aside. “You’re a fool Ms. Witherow.”

  Stung, she tried not to feel the hurt. “Then I suppose I am. But, if it makes you feel any better, both the girls and I will be extra careful—”

  Infuriated, he leaped to his feet once more then hurdled himself across the room to glare down into her upturned face. “You damn fool! You aren’t thinking about opening your home as a shelter again?”

  Laura visibly took a step back from his wrath. “Of course I am.”

  He reached out and gripped her shoulders in a fierce grasp. “You are a bigger fool than I gave you credit for. “

  “Let go of me.” She attempted to escape his death clamp on her arms.

  “You might as well just take a match to the place yourself.” He did not relent on his hold. “Are you such a fool you would be willing to risk your home again to seek a ridiculous belief you can save the world? Even after all you’ve been through?”

  “That is my home, whether you saw to the renovation of it or not. I don’t recall every asking you for help. I will carry on my business there as I see fit.”

  He shrugged her out of his hold. “Give up your dreams, Laura, before you don’t have anything tangible to call your own anymore.”

  She rubbed unconsciously at her shoulder where he had held her crossly. “There isn’t anything I want more than to—”

  She could not finish the sentence, for then it would be to admit her loss. “You may never understand this, but when I help those girls and give them what little I can offer, my life has purpose once more. Isn’t there anything in your life that gives you that feeling, Dexter?”

  His hazel eyes bore into hers and Laura saw the answer before he spoke. “No, I don’t patronize such irrational musings.”

  She sighed heavily as he turned abruptly from her once more, her despair unnoticed.

  * * *
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  Hours of cleaning and preparing the house for her young charges in the following days, rendered the home in tiptop shape. Adell Cameron had turned up unexpectedly and eager to volunteer her service. Laura was greatly thankful. Not merely because the extra pair of hands came in handy, but chiefly to thank the woman properly for all she had done for Laura over the past few months. Naturally, Adell whisked away her gratitude, reminding Laura inadvertently very much of the woman’s son.

  She was in the process of dragging the round braided rug, where some of the girls perched during group session, the few feet to the front entrance where it would be taken outside to be beaten clean. Bending over backwards, she turned the knob and opened the door.

  Dexter stood on the opposite side, upside down. Immediately, Laura straightened bolt upright. She stared at him speechless, so startled to see him.

  His expression was his usual unemotional self. “Let me help you with that.”

  “What are you doing here?” Her tongue demanded now that it was capable of moving.

  “Picking up mother.” He reached for the carpet and dragged it out onto the porch. “Where do you want this?”

  “Over the banister.” Of course, his mother, he certainly would not be here to see her, to apologize, to beg her forgiveness and ask her back into his life.

  With one toss he flung the dirty carpet over the railing then turned back toward her, dusting his hands. “Anywhere I can wash up?”

  “Of course.” She led him inside, trying unsuccessfully to regain her composure. Where in truth she felt thoroughly unsettled at the sight of him.

  “Ah, Dexter. There you are. Is it that time already?” Adell stood up from scrubbing the hardwood floors, brushing a stray piece of hair as she did.

  Her son silently clenched his jaw at the sight of his mother, disheveled and dirty. “Let me clean up and we'll be on our way. I suggest you do the same.”

  “Bah.” His mother shrugged him off. “No harm for the pores to get down and dirty every now and then.”

  He didn't say anything, just turned and followed Laura into the kitchen. At the sink she switched on the taps and turned to face him. “I suppose you blame me for your mother's appearance.”

  His eyes shot to her own sloppy attire and focused on a particular black smudge over her left cheek. An urge to reach out and wipe it away had him brushing past her and vigorously scrubbing his hands clean. “My mother is a very determined woman. She does what she wants.” As he turned back, she handed him a clean towel. “I told her to stay away. She refused.”

  “She's a wonderful person. I should be so lucky to have an ally in her.”

  “Ally? Are you conspiring with my mother?” He gave a cynical smile. “Is it revenge you're after Laura? What little scheme have you conceived between the two of you?”

  “Don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't waste my time.” Angry pride had her tilting her chin. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her humiliation.

  Adell breezed into the kitchen, saying, “Well, I certainly feel I've accomplished something today. Just wait until tomorrow. I'll bring the paint and we'll begin in here. It certainly could use it.”

  “Adell, there's no need for you to help again tomorrow. You've done enough today and I appreciate everything.”

  “Well I'm happy to help and I certainly will return tomorrow.” She gave the girl a pert grin. “Try and stop me.”

  Laura's eyes flashed to the woman's son. “I don't think your son appreciates your being here.”

  His brows shot up. “Don't try putting this on me. I told you, mother, she didn't want anything to do with us.”

  “Us? No, just you Dexter.” She faced him angrily. “Stay out of my business.”

  “Funny, considering it’s the one area you need the most help with.”

  “Stop it children!” Adell interrupted with her hands raised. “That is enough. Someone is going to say something they'll later regret.”

  Startled at Adell's reproachful tone, Laura and Dexter went silent. His face remained stone cold and as hard as a rock; the only movement was a twitching nerve along his jaw.

  “I'm afraid it's too late for that,” Laura quietly stated, recalling her foolish declaration in the cottage.

  The nerve in Dexter’s jaw jerked before he spun on his heel and exited the room, leaving Laura to wonder if the same memory had come to mind. “I'll wait for you in the car mother.”

  As soon as he left, Laura whirled on Adell. “Oh Adell, why didn't you tell me he was coming?”

  “And what, let you plan your attack?” The woman went for the sink and began cleaning up. “You would be surprised at the feelings revealed when caught off guard.”

  “Adell, you don't still hope your son and I will-will form a union?”

  “Hope? No, I know you two were meant to be together.” She said it so matter-of-fact.

  Laura gave a worried frown. “You don't understand, Adell. Dexter told me. He d-doesn't lov—care for me.”

  The woman faltered momentarily, before grinning at Laura. “My son is very stubborn, isn't he?”

  She sighed wearily. She didn't want to talk about it anymore in fear the older woman would only raise her hopes once more. Dexter was a man of his word. Hadn’t he said as much himself? He had no tolerance for foolish romantic notions or dreams. His outright feelings regarding that subject, he had been more than candid about, painfully so.

  The following day Adell returned as promised. Laura was glad to have her help and company. Even more so since Dexter had not returned. Or at least that was what she told herself. Less than two weeks left to Christmas and Laura's home was nearly ready for the reopening. Some of the furnishings were destroyed by the fire but since had been replaced, though in whole, the home had the overall appearance it had never been touched by disaster.

  Upstairs, she finished assembling the beds back together and tucked new crisp bed sheets over mattresses donated by the local Salvation Army. Standing up, she glanced over the room and inhaled the fumes from the recently painted walls. It gave it a new fresh quality and for Laura, a tingling sensation of excitement. Soon these rooms would be filled with young girls again and giving Laura's life meaning once more.

  Turning, she headed for the attic door. Almost with reluctance, she turned the knob and ascended the stairs. Up there had been the core of the fire. In only minutes it consumed her past, her present and her future. It swallowed up in its angry thirst all dearest to her.

  The walls she could rebuild, but some things could never be replaced. She felt tears burn the back of her eyes, and swallowed the hard lump forming in her throat. One step at a time, she slowly reached the top landing and stood looking around the empty room. Above her head a large skylight had been fitted where none had been before. It brightened the room, no longer dark and gloomy but emitting warmth and a cheerful glow. Laura had never approved the feature, a luxury she was sure she could not afford, but she was glad it had been installed nevertheless.

  Without warning, an image came into view of herself kneeling before a box of charcoal remains. Quickly shaking her head to rid of the memory, she turned sharply on her heel. As if the fire itself was after her she hurried down the steps and slammed the door shut. Adell had just come up from the floor below looking startled at Laura, as she lay back against the door, her eyes wild with sorrow.

  “Laura dear, what's wrong?” She instantly went over and touched the girl's arm.

  At Adell's touch, her nerves calmed and her eyes visibly quelled their fears. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the door. “Just old nightmares chasing a foolish girl.”

  “Not a foolish girl,” Adell firmly stated. “Laura, what you went through was very traumatic. Maybe you should consider talking to someone professional.”

  “Therapy?” She shook her head. “I'm fine Adell.”

  “Those ghosts may never go away.”

  She looked at the older woman, startled. The woman's depth of understanding was
impressive, as well as her sound advice. If Laura had her wits about her, her own psychology background would agree with the older woman. But since this whole ugly incident happened, she had not been herself, overcome with grief and self-pity.

  “Really, Adell, I'm fine.”

  “I do hope you think it over some more. You see, I've heard those words before. Fourteen years ago from a boy who had life and love in his heart. That same boy grew into a cold and bitter man.”

  She knew Adell was right. The question was, did she have enough strength. For it was strength she needed to face her fears straight on. Fears that included more than just the fire, but which had begun and grown since her father's death.

  She was afraid of being alone. The box of Christmas memories had only been yet another desertion. Cherished feelings of being part of a family vanished for good when that last tie went up in smoke.

  She knew what she had to do. Adell was right. It was time she sought help. What good would she be to the girls at the shelter if she couldn't begin with herself? Then, possibly, with a little more courage and strength on her part, help Dexter in the process.

  CHAPTER 9

  The men came through the front door carrying the large table Laura's father stored in the shed out back. She directed them to the back wall of the dining room where they unfolded the legs and set up the table.

  Outside a huge banner hung over the now completed attic walls announcing “Grand Re-opening”. Adell came up with the idea to hold an opening celebration party. It would help with the publicity and raising of funds.

  With the little bit of money from her father's annuity, she treated herself to a new outfit for the occasion. It was a rather sharp jump suit in scarlet red but the silk blouse under it gave it a more soft appearance. Her dark chestnut hair looked stunning in contrast as it flowed like satin down her back.

 

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