I grab a pair of Versace jeans and a Donna Karen knit top, some underwear, a padded bra, and socks. With my arms full, I nip over to the bathroom, sending Liam an appreciative wink. He pops an olive into his mouth, then offers Sour Face one, which she accepts! I roll my eyes and close the bathroom door behind me.
My mind drifts to George, and I wonder if Liam has an update. And I need to meet with Billy today and talk business. I don’t have time to bloody-well sit around here all day with this pointless investigation, or even to cook with Liam. I slip my legs into the jeans, the knot in my stomach slowly easing. After dressing, I brush my teeth and pull a comb through my hair.
I meet my eyes in the mirror and lift my chin. I’m doing my best, dammit. I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m not going to sit around here scared of Children’s Aid or any other bullshit!
Good to go, I saunter out of the bathroom. Nobody has moved, Margo is still playing with Rory and Liam is still playing Jamie Oliver.
“Are we done here?” I ask, coming over to the kitchen area. “I’m sorry,” I say to Liam, not bothering to wait for Sour Face’s reply, “I need to get Margo to school and I have a business meeting afterwards.”
Sour Face seems to get the point and stands to smooth her ugly suit. “Actually, I must go.”
Yes!
“Would you still like to question my eldest daughter?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Sour Face scribbles something on the clipboard and clicks her pen closed. She bends over and slips the clipboard and pen into her bag, and Liam and I exchange looks of relief over her head.
“Well then, I’ll take you downstairs. Be right back, Liam.”
“Goodbye, Ms. Tomlinson. Pleasure to meet you.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you too.”
I bet it was.
We make our way down the stairs, Sour Face is quiet and contemplative. As I open the front door for her, she turns to face me.
“Ms. Tomlinson, what’s the next step? Am I going to hear from you again?”
Sour Face raises her eyes to meet mine. “I don’t think so. Good day, Mrs. Carson.”
I break into a wide grin. “Thank you. Bye,” I call after her and then close the front door with a satisfying click. And don’t come back now, ya hear?
Upstairs, Liam has both girls seated at the table eating cereal. Rory has only just started eating cereal, and today she’s munching away on Rice Crispies with almond milk. It’s unbelievable to think in a couple of months she’ll be considered a toddler!
“Ding dong, the witch is gone?” Liam asks, as I close the attic door.
“How nerve-racking. I can’t believe my mother-in-law. She was trying to say I was unfit and the kids were in danger.”
“We’re in danger?” Margo asks, gaping from me to Liam and back again.
“Not at all, it’s just one big misunderstanding; but it’s all over now.”
My eyes lock on Liam’s and I hold my breath as he strides across the room toward me. Before I know what’s happening, his arms are around me, embracing me in an intimate, tender hug.
I relax into his arms and lay my head on his chest. Ahhhh. This feels so lovely. Liam smells heavenly. I don’t know the last time Micky even held me in his arms like this. Damn Micky!
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky.
“I am now. And I can’t thank you enough for winning her over.”
Liam chuckles and gives me a little squeeze before releasing me. At the same time, I hear the bathroom door slam, and I glance over to see Rory with her cereal, but no Margo. Hmm. I gaze at Liam and raise my eyebrow.
“Margo?” I ask at the door. I can hear little sniffles from inside the bathroom. “Are you okay?” I turn the knob and push the door open. Margo is seated on the edge of the bath, looking miserable.
“What’s going on?” I ask, coming to sit next to her. She’s still in her yellow flower bud pajamas and her hair resembles Elvira’s.
“I don’t want another daddy.”
I bolt upright in alarm. “You don’t want another daddy? What are you talking about?”
“I like Liam, but I want Daddy to come home now. I don’t want somebody else.”
“Honey, I barely know Liam. He was just giving me a hug, like you would hug a friend if they were upset.”
“Why were you upset?”
I sigh, wondering how to explain this. “That woman came by from the government. I wasn’t expecting her. She just wanted to check up on a few things, but she won’t come again. I was upset to have the interruption.”
“Oh.”
“And I’m not marrying Liam. If you remember, we just met him yesterday. Plus, I’m already married to your father.” I slip my arm around Margo’s shoulder and pull her little body close. “Margo, I can’t explain where your father is, because I don’t know. But I do know he needs some time to think. His business had some major difficulties and he was really upset by it all. But he’ll be back any day, really.” Margo raises her eyes to mine and I nod in confirmation.
Then, as if remembering something, she slips off the side of the bath and flings the door open. “Liam! We found a dancing room with diamonds downstairs.”
“Did you, love?” he asks.
“We did,” I say as I pick up Rory and then blow a raspberry on her stomach. Phew! Diaper change time. “Do you know anything about a grand ballroom right here in George’s house?”
Liam thinks for a second. “I haven’t got a baldy.”
“I’m not sure what that means. Irish for something? But come. I’ll show you.”
I finish changing Rory’s bum and whisk her into my arms.
“I called the hospital this morning,” Liam says, as we descend the stairs. Margo hops down the stairs—hop, hop, hop.
“Oh good, I imagine he’s okay?”
“He is. He’s making a textbook recovery.”
“Awesome,” I say, relieved.
Piper awaits us at the bottom of the stairs, sitting directly in our way.
“Hi cat!” Margo sings, trying to pick her up, to no avail.
“Come on, Margo.” I hike Rory up higher in my arms, and lead Liam down that amazing corridor.
“Ready?” I ask, my voice bursting with anticipation. Liam just laughs and nods. I pull the latches and sweep both doors open in a grand gesture. Liam’s mouth drops as he slowly enters the space, taking in the stunning majesty.
“I’ve been here before,” he whispers.
“Really?” I ask, intrigued. Rory struggles to get out of my arm, so I reluctantly put her down on the dusty floor. Margo is already spinning and dancing again. If this room is magical to me, I can only imagine what it would be like from a child’s perspective.
“Earth to Liam?”
Liam is meandering around seemingly awed, and completely transfixed. “I was here. I know it. It’s familiar to me, but like a dream.”
“Well, do you remember any details?”
“I know there were people everywhere, like a party.”
“Anything else?”
Liam furrows his brow and gnaws at the corner of his bottom lip. Even when frowning, he’s still a babe.
“I remember a giant Christmas tree!” His face lights up, eyes shining.
“Was it over there?” I ask, recollecting the photograph.
Liam shrugs. “Ah, not sure, it’s all pretty fuzzy. But I definitely remember the tree.”
“I wonder if George ever comes in here anymore,” I say, staring up at the monstrous ceiling all decked out in elaborate crown molding and abstract painting.
“I doubt it. He shut everything down when his wife died. That’s what I heard. I was too young to really know. We lived in Ireland and only came to Vancouver every few years.”
“This ballroom can’t be shut out from life anymore. It should be enjoyed. We should bring it back to life!” My voice rises with excitement. Yes! This is what George needs. We can surprise him! “We can have Christmas i
n here!” I practically shout.
“YAY!” Margo yells from where she’s dancing. Rory attempts to stand on her own but keeps wobbling and landing on her butt.
“Well, it’s a nice idea, Lane. But what if George doesn’t want to use this space?”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. The man is lonely as hell. Think how amazing he’d feel to have us all for Christmas. And we would do everything, of course.”
“I could make roasted pheasant.”
“Sure, whatever. The point is I need to put together a team to clean this place and decorate for Christmas, if we’re going to do this before George comes home. The brass and silver need to be polished, the curtains need cleaning, the floor needs waxing, the chimney needs to be swept so we don’t start another fire, the chandelier needs shining…” I take mental notes of the to-do list while compiling a separate list of people to help. Dad, Juliet, Billy, maybe even John Childs, Liam of course, me, and even Louisa. “Let’s clean right away! Just in case George comes home soon. I’ll go call everyone!” I announce, a thrill of delight electrifying me. Yippee!
21
Saturday was cleaning day. The whole crew—Liam, Dad, Louisa, Juliet, Billy, even John Childs—came over to help. And of course there were the girls and I. Oh, and Riley, if I count him. Dad was so busy “helping” Riley sweep, shine, and dust that he didn’t do anything himself. But that’s okay, because as they say, many hands make light work. Billy brought another self-burning log, but this one was the kind that cleans the chimney at the same time, so we didn’t need a chimney sweeping company to come.
And it’s a good thing, because I am down to my last grand. With Christmas around the corner, that’s incredibly upsetting. Not to mention I won’t have enough money for January’s rent. It’s no wonder I’ve been obsessed with getting this business off the ground—it’s my only hope.
Anyway, the ballroom looks glorious now! We were even able to bring the dinner table from George’s formal dining room into the ballroom and place it under the chandelier. The table seats ten, which is perfect. We’re all so excited to surprise George and to have Christmas dinner all together with him. Still no word on exactly when he’ll be coming home, but the doctors are confident it will be in time for Christmas.
Today Dad is coming over to watch Rory, and I’m going to Billy’s condo for another brainstorming session. My phone pings with a text, and I check it to see Riley’s number.
We’re here toots.
I glance at Rory, who is napping on my bed, grab my bag, and slip out of the room. Downstairs, I open the door to find Dad standing on the stoop with Louisa and Riley. Dad’s eyes are bright and Louisa is looking pretty radiant herself; must be all the wedding planning.
“Hi guys, thanks for coming,” I say, stepping aside to let them in. I’ve decided to just accept Louisa. It is what it is. And she makes Dad happy, which is the most important thing.
“Hiya, Elaine!” Riley shrieks in that godawful voice.
“Hey.”
“Lane, you won’t believe it.” Dad is beaming and Louisa is trying to hide a smile.
“What?”
“Riley is clairvoyant!” he announces with pride.
Okay, I really don’t have time for this. I swing my bag to the other arm and wait for him to continue.
“How’s that?” I feign as much interest as I can muster. I’m going to miss the bus!
“Tell her, son.”
“I knew Pops was gonna win the lottery! Yeah!”
“What? Oh my God! You won the lottery?” Ha! I can’t believe it! How fantastic. My money troubles seem to melt away. I want to run and cry and dance. “How much Dad?” Wow, I can’t believe this!
“Five dollars. So I bought another ticket. For free!”
“What? Five dollars. I’ve probably missed my bus.” I roll my eyes and push past him. What a wack job. Five lousy bucks. Clairvoyant my ass.
“Hey! Where’s Rory?” Dad calls.
“Upstairs, sleeping,” I yell over my shoulder.
On Cornwall, I cross the street to the bus stop and pass Liam on the crosswalk.
“Liam!” I call. He turns, his eyes meeting mine and his face melts into a gorgeous grin. Then he switches directions and jogs over to my side. I feel a warmth just being in his presence. It’s not just his gorgeous face; he has a really beautiful spirit too—if that doesn’t sound too “out-there.”
“Where are you going?” I ask as he strides along beside me to the bus stop.
“Just going to play volleyball at Kits Beach.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know you played.” I can’t help giving his toned arms a once-over.
“Ah, it’s just a drop-in. Nothing serious.”
“Nice. Although, I won’t have nearly as much fun.” I give Liam a wry smile, and he raises his eyebrow.
“How’s that? Where are you headed?”
“Downtown to Billy’s to work on the biz. We’re going to spend the afternoon brainstorming.”
“That doesn’t sound bad at all.”
“Good. Why don’t you come too? We could use a fresh perspective.”
“Well…” Liam seems to considers this, and I instantly regret asking him. I mean, he was on his way somewhere already, and I shouldn’t look so desperate.” But Liam turns to me and flashes his breathtaking smile. “Ah, sure look it!” he says, throwing his hands up. “I kind of feel lazy to play anyway, plus I can head to the hospital to see George too.”
And so it’s settled.
When we arrive at Billy’s, he greets us with a less-than-enthusiastic “Hi.”
Actually, he seems quite miserable, which makes me feel uncomfortable for Liam.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper, as Liam wanders off to the piano, giving us some privacy. I don’t take my eyes off Liam, watching as he checks out the piano, sits down, and to my amazement, starts playing what I recognize to be Chopin. Wow, he’s really talented.
“Lane?”
“Huh? Yeah, what?”
Billy rolls his eyes. “Can you just forget Lover Boy for one second.”
“What do you mean? I’m married.”
“Barely.”
“What?”
“Nothing. As I was saying, my dad’s acting all funny.”
I tear my eyes away from Liam and turn to Billy with concern. “What do you mean acting funny?”
“Well…” Billy sighs. “I need a cigarette.”
This isn’t good. “What’s going on?”
“I sent him the money. Like eighty grand. Before I sent it, we were emailing all the time, and when I called, we chatted forever and he showed so much interest in me and my life. But—”
“But what?” I ask, dreading the answer. I don’t know what shocks me more, that Billy wired 80K or that his dad swindled him. His own flesh and blood!
“He’s just…different now. He’s distracted. And distant.”
The Chopin music has taken on a melancholic theme, draping the mood with undertones of despair. I wait to catch Liam’s eye and signal for a change in music. He starts playing an upbeat tune, but now it sounds like an old battlefield where the soldiers would fight to pleasant music. It’s no use.
I have no words to comfort Billy. No point in saying it’s a coincidence, when it’s clear what’s going on. I’d like to catch a plane to Haiti and punch Billy’s dad myself. How could anyone take advantage of my dear, sweet cousin? Not to mention, Billy’s in the same predicament as me—virtually broke and jobless. But that’s about to change, because this business is going to fly, dammit!
“Billy, you pour the drinks. I’ll get the paper and markers. No sense in dwelling on anything right now; let’s just make this happen.”
An hour later, we’re in combat mode. Billy is sprawled on his “thinking chair,” a ’40s glamour chaise, and Liam is still serenading us at the piano. I’m lying on my stomach, with a sea of flip chart papers and markers all around.
“There’s this home show expo in January we
could possibly do,” Billy says.
“How much is a booth?”
“They start at two grand.”
Shit. “Two grand is too steep. Maybe they’ll give us a discount because it’s coming right up?”
“Maybe,” Billy says. He sounds unconvinced. “Here’s the website.” He passes me the iPad, and I tap through the pages.
“Let me call them,” I say, taking out my phone and activating the speaker so Billy can hear. I’m patched through to the Director, who informs me the booths are already all booked. Double shit.
“That’s really disappointing. Can you put us on a cancellation list?” I ask.
“Sure, I can. My only other suggestion would be to pair with another company who may be interested in sharing a booth, and therefore the fee.”
“Okay!” I say, exchanging grins with Billy. “Can you send me a list of the companies who have already purchased a booth?”
“No problem!”
I ring off, and Billy shakes his head, smiling. “One call, Lane. One call and you just saved us a grand.”
“Okay, so we need a grand.” I say. “And then we can showcase our business to prospective clients. But that only solves half the equation. How are we going to get the designers on board? Especially considering they’re the ones who will pay us for bringing them business.” Billy gives me a blank look and we slip into quiet brooding.
“Well, let’s just get some ideas down. Anything.” I pull the lid off a blue marker and hold it poised and ready to write. “Okay…um…let’s see. We could cold-call them which isn’t impressive and will take a long time.”
“We could hold a press conference,” Billy says.
I brighten at the thought, but… “No. It’ll cost too much money. Plus there’s no incentive for them to come.”
“Right,” Billy says with a sigh.
“It would be great if we could somehow bring them to an impressive client’s home.” I muse.
“But we don’t have an impressive client…or any clients.”
Right.
Billy and I both sigh, and I lower my face on the cool paper, exhausted. All this thinking.
“I have an idea.”
I glance up in surprise at Liam, who at some point must have stopped playing the piano. His face is bright with expectation. “Okay, please!”
Riches & Rags: Things are seldom as they seem. Page 18