Beginning, Previous Section, Section IV
Chapter Sixteen: German Chocolate
Posted on 2008-10-19
Somehow it always seems that the longer a voicemail goes unchecked, the worse the news is. That was never more true at three o’clock the next morning, when my phone started beeping. A new text message arrived, from Keith, and the three word message did not improve my mood; being woken in the nether regions of the night has the extraordinary effect of making my mood blacker than velvet. That night was even worse, as it woke me from a delicious dream, but I knew Keith wouldn’t contact me unless it was very important. A message that reads “cal me NOW” is nothing if not important.
As I went to call my direct boss, the phone beeped in my ear, reminding me of the two messages Gina left earlier and which I still hadn’t checked. Family trumps work, and it would only be a few minute’s delay. My nerves did somersaults: the first message was that Lydia had run away from home, which could be considered a blessing. The second message made my stomach disappear into itself. Lydia took my car, and Mom’s boyfriend heard on the police scanner that there was a fire at the resort! That would be one reason Keith wanted to talk to me. Anyway, Gina wanted to know if we could get back soon.
I called Keith as demanded. “What happened?” I asked in lieu of greeting when he answered.
“You tell me!” he snapped. “Sorry. It would behoove you to get back here ASAP. The police are going to want to talk to you.”
He told me what he knew thus far, what he could tell me. Most of the main building was destroyed, but nobody was hurt. There weren’t a lot of guests, and staff was able to get everyone out in time. The problem was the security company ran a preliminary report, saying that to the best of their knowledge, the fire started in the manager’s office and my key was the last one used at that door at 8:47 p.m. the night before.
“They think I did it?!”
“Your car was found on the premises. The best thing you can do is get back up here and answer some questions.”
I bit my tongue to keep back the expletives. That little tramp!
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” I said.
The problem was that Lydia really wasn’t smart enough to engineer a scheme like that. Who would help her? And why?
I was sick.
I made it to the bathroom before vomiting, at least, and when I got myself cleaned and dressed I woke Sarah and Ben.
“We have a problem,” I said. “Lydia’s run away from home, with my car and my keys to the resort, there’s been a fire and they think I did it.”
“Come again?” Ben asked.
“The police think I set a fire at White Pine Lodge because of that stupid keyed entry thing, but Lydia’s the one who took my keys and my car!”
I started a pot of coffee, if only to give me something to do.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that,” Sarah said. “You’ve been down here for the last week. Surely Mr. Fredericks will give you an adequate alibi.”
“Not so bad? Aunt Sarah, the resort just burned to the ground and the police think I did it. My car was found on the scene, my key the last one used. Not everyone knows I’m not in Michigan right now, and most people think I hate my job and Davlin Fredericks…”
Oh, God. That’s who helped her! Jason Palmer put her up to it. This wasn’t about me, I was just convenient: the sister of one of his adoring fans, someone who had access to the important places in the Lodge. I’d kill him!
“I have to get back,” I said. “It’s almost four. If I leave now, I can get there by nine-”
“Just how do you plan to get there?” Ben asked.
“I’ll have to rent a car. There’s no chance of getting a flight until much later, and I can’t waste time.”
“You’re not driving alone,” Sarah said. “Your mom would never forgive me if something happened.”
We let the ridiculousness of that idea pass as the ravings of a sleepy mind. Mom wouldn’t really care if anything happened to me, not with her favorite daughter missing.
“But you have to work Monday!” I replied.
“I’ll go with her,” Ben offered. “If we can take your car.”
“Fine. I’ll cut out early on Monday, then, and catch a flight up that night. Don’t look at me like that, Elise; it’s called an emergency and I’ve accrued plenty of time to make up for it. They’ll live without me.”
I have the coolest aunt in the world, and her boyfriend is right up there too.
We were able to leave within half an hour, and only stopped for potty breaks, coffee and Red Bull. Ben tried to keep my mind off the current tragedy but that was nigh on impossible. It felt wrong to be leaving Chicago like that, like a fugitive, without calling Davlin first, but Keith said he already knew about the fire and that I shouldn’t contact him. When I tried to enlighten Keith about the added depth of my relationship with our mutual boss, he wouldn’t listen. When I had a few moments to think, I figured that I probably shouldn’t tell anyone anyway. Not for a while yet.
Damn them. Damn Lydia and damn Jason. Not only did they destroy my reputation, but my resort, MY RESORT! I put just as much work into that place as the owners! White Pine Lodge ran smoothly because of me! And now not only was the Lodge gone but I was implicated as the mastermind behind the fire! Damn them both!
My phone rang just outside of Grand Rapids, the distinctive ringtone telling me who called before I looked at the caller ID. Davlin Fredericks.
He sounded tired and annoyed. I couldn’t blame him.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Uh, northbound on… 91, just north of Grand Rapids.”
“You know this makes you look guilty. Are you turning yourself in?”
I sighed. “Kinda. It’ll look worse if I don’t. Anyway, how else am I supposed to clear my name?”
“That’s when you hire a lawyer.”
“I can’t afford one!”
“But I can!” he hissed.
“Yeah, no. How would that look? The owner of the company hiring a lawyer for the person suspected of torching company property? Your insurance company would scream fraud so fast your hair would curl. The media would have a field day!”
Davlin was silent for a moment. I was right.
“Why didn’t you call me first?” he asked. The pain and fatigue in his voice made my heart hurt too.
“Keith said it would be best if I didn’t. He said there were protocols to be followed.”
He swore. “These are extenuating circumstances, Elise. You should have called me.”
“This is a business matter, Davlin. Geez, you were worried about me looking guilty! If I were a cop, I’d haul your behind in for questioning too! You shouldn’t be talking to me right now!”
Davlin sighed. “Byron and I are getting on a plane in a few moments. Call me when you get to Preston. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Look who’s talking,” I muttered. He snorted. “See you soon.”
I didn’t tell him my suspicions about who was behind the fire. If he hadn’t come to that conclusion by himself, he’d find out soon enough. The issue that weighed the most on my mind the most was only tenuously linked to the fire. When Davlin found out the truth, that my little sister and his worst enemy worked together to destroy part of his company, would he still like me?
High school stuff, I know. The worst thing: I couldn’t shake the feeling. Would he want to associate with a family that had a reputation for trouble and included a felon among their number? I doubted it. Damn Lydia! She’d ruined more than the resort and her own reputation. She’d ruined my own happiness. Potential happiness, anyway. At least I had the nice memories from last night to cling to.
“For what it’s worth,” Ben said, breaking through the gloomy cloud hanging over me, “I like him. He’s more worried about you than his company.”
“That’s not good business.”
“Some things are more important than business, Elise. And really, your little resort is just one tiny chunk of his business. Relax!”
“Thanks. I think.”
The closer we got to the resort, the more anxious I became. I really didn’t want to see the still-smoking remains of my home away from home, even if logic said that by now it wouldn’t be smoking any more.
My heart thudded in my chest as we turned up the road to the resort. To the untrained eye there was nothing wrong. It was an average, everyday narrow lane, lined with naked trees, rimed with frost. I saw something different. Skid marks from fleeing guests and employees, people who misjudged the tightness of a turn or didn’t see a patch of ice. I saw broken branches and abrasions on tree trunks, victims of emergency vehicles too wide and big for the road. An increasing amount of soot blackened the snow even further into the forest, further than any snowplow could toss dirty road scrapings.
I almost asked to pull over so I could be sick again but it was too late. The trees stopped, leaving a large clearing, even larger now that White Pine Lodge was reduced to charred sticks and twisted metal girders. Half a dozen police cars were scattered over the premises while forensics experts and crime scene investigation teams worked to find answers.
One team went over my car, my poor little car, left too close to the building. They searched for fingerprints, I assumed, since there wasn’t much for them to look for otherwise. The tires were melted into the pavement and the body was drooping. In that respect, at least, Lydia did me a favor. Now I had to get a new car.
Ben dropped me off at the pool house, which was untouched and functioning as Keith’s temporary office. A rental car parked next to Keith’s big black truck meant that Davlin and Byron were already there, and I was reminded that I didn’t call him.
A cop stopped me and asked for identification, then escorted me to Keith.
“Does this mean I’m not under arrest?” I asked, surprised and grateful I wasn’t being read my rights.
“No, ma’am,” the cop said. He added with a twinkle, “Do you want to be?”
Under different circumstances, I would’ve appreciated his flirtations. He actually wasn’t that bad looking, and there’s just something about a man in a crisp, precise uniform- Oh, God. Listen to me. Davlin’s influence, I promise.
Four men worked and waited, two and two, in Keith’s office. The lead investigator, I presumed, leaned over Keith’s desk and both men were peering intently at the monitor. Byron sat in a plushy armchair, working over a stress ball and glaring at the wall. Davlin paced. He still wore his long overcoat, so they must not have been waiting too long.
I coughed, drawing four pairs of eyes to me.
“Miss Benjamin,” Davlin said. Part of me screamed in outrage at his resuming of that formal title, until I remembered that he was just being professional and showing me respect. And not letting anyone guess that last night he was kissing me very thoroughly.
“Ah, Elise,” Keith said. He looked somewhat embarrassed.
The lead investigator spoke up. “Miss Benjamin, I’m sorry you had to be involved in this. Further evidence has come to light that removes you from suspicion.”
“Oh. Well, that explains why I’m not in handcuffs right now,” I said before I could stop myself. Only Byron showed the slightest amusement.
“Now that you’re here, however, would you mind answering a few questions anyway?” the investigator asked. I nodded, and he handed me a photo. “Do you recognize this young woman?”
The black and white photo was the grainy kind pulled from surveillance cameras. It showed a tall woman, blonde, stepping out of a junky car. Her profile matched one that I’d seen every day, or almost every day for the last seventeen years.
“That’s my little sister, Lydia Benjamin.”
“Were you aware she was driving your car?”
“My sister told me in a voicemail last night.” I felt Davlin’s eyes on me. Yes, that call that I ignored in favor of our snog session.
“And were you aware she had your keys to the resort?”
“No, I was not.”
A new photo was placed in my line of vision. “Do you recognize this man?”
All my suspicions were confirmed. There was the surf-god Jason Palmer, blowing a kiss at the camera outside the main office.
“Yes. He was with one of the construction crews working on the resort.”
“Do you know where he might be?”
“I don’t understand the question. I don’t understand why you’re asking me, I mean.”
The investigator looked to Davlin. “It is understood that you were friends with him. His truck was found abandoned two miles away.”
“I don’t know where he could be. He never mentioned an apartment or home; we always met at public parking or a restaurant.”
“Thank you, Miss Benjamin. If you can think of anything else, please let us know.”
“Certainly.” A thought wriggled into my befuddled brain. “Um, officer, what should I do if Lydia tries to contact me? Or any of my family?”
“Bring any information you gather to me,” the investigator said.
“Do you really think your sister would contact you?” Davlin asked later, when the police were done for the morning.
“You’ve met her,” I said. “What do you think?”
“Then it’s only a matter of time. Are you hungry? I offered breakfast, you know.”
“Is that offer still open?” I asked.
“Yes. Although I have to substitute Byron for Evey. Would you like to invite someone else in your aunt’s stead?”
“Is that wise? You know who I’m going to invite.”
He didn’t have time to answer. My phone began to ring, loud and very, very insistent
Chapter Seventeen: All Nut
Posted on 2009-01-18
Even though I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID, I answered it anyway. It might be Lydia calling from a different cell phone, a payphone somewhere, or a hotel. Maybe even from police custody.
The person calling was not Lydia.
"Hello, honey."
"Daddy?!"
"I heard about Lydia-"
"How? Mom tried calling the last number you gave her and it was disconnected!" So said Gina, at least.
"Regardless, I heard about Lydia."
"Good! What do you plan to do about her?"
"I was calling to find out just what needed to be done, actually."
"What could be done?" I gulped. "You can get up here and help find your jailbait daughter!"
"She's not that young!"
"Yes, Dad, she is. You'd know that if you were around more!"
"Now, honey you know that's not possible."
"Why not? I think I've seen you maybe three times in the past two years!"
"I'm a very busy man, Elise."
"Obviously! Too busy for your wife and kids! Can you even tell me what Megan's degree is?"
"It's a Bachelor's in IT Administration."
"Lucky guess," I grumbled.
"And yours is a BFA in photography. Why the two of you haven't found something more than that rathole of a resort is beyond me."
All the hair on my body stood on end. I couldn't believe he just insulted White Pine Lodge! "It's not a rathole anymore, Dad," I said. "At least, it wasn't until your daughter helped burn it to the ground! A lot of time, money, and effort went into making White Pine Lodge better, and then Lydia let some scum-sucking lowlife talk her into helping him torch it."
"So you said. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"
"None in the slightest. A truck the police think was used as the getaway car was found abandoned on south 131, but really they could be anywhere, so unless you have Lo-Jack on her, I doubt anyone's going to find her. In the meantime, you can come up here and explain to Mom why you haven't been around lately."
"I don't think she needs me right now," he said. "She has a boyfriend." He was less upset about that than one would think, and certainly less shocked than I was learning that he knew about it!
"Well, with your prolonged absence, that's hardly surprising, isn't it! In fact, I wouldn't be surprised at all if you suddenly came out and said you have a second family tucked away somewhere yourself!"
Silence. He had nothing to say against my bluff; I had no proof, only a semi-drunken theory bandied about at 3 a.m. between Gina and myself. She naturally argued against that possibility, but now…
"Daddy?" I said, incredulous at the pause and lack of denial.
"I'll have to call you back, honey," he said rather quickly.
"Don't you dare hang up on me!"
He did. I resisted the urge to hurl the phone into the trees, knowing full well that it would be impossible to find later, opting instead to kick a large rock. I only succeeded in stubbing my toe, but it at least gave me sufficient excuse to cry.
"Your father?" Davlin asked.
"My father!" I repeated, "Is useless. I don't know where he is, what he does for a living, or even who he is anymore! I can't even remember what he looks like! Here he is, worrying about me swearing, and he's living a double life! I don't think my family can get any more dysfunctional!"
Davlin raised an eyebrow as I realized just what I'd said. There were a great deal of things that could still go wrong and further sink my own respectability in the world because my family conspired to be so insane. My blood pressure spiked and every other symptom of anxiety presented itself, the foremost being nausea. I was glad, in a grim sort of way, that there was nothing in my stomach to throw up.
"Elise, breathe," Davlin said. He was panicking too, but more at the prospect of my vomiting on his shoes. "Byron! Bring some water!"
"Thanks, I'm fine," I said.
"What's wrong, Elise?" Byron asked, holding out a bottle of water.
"My family is conspiring to drive me crazy, that's all."
"Business as usual, then," he replied. Water dripped from my nose as I failed to suppress a snort. He chuckled and went to get the rental car warmed up.
"Are you all right?" Davlin asked.
I nodded. "As well as can be expected, I think. It's just that every time my life starts going well, they do something to f- foul it up. I really wouldn't blame you if you walked away from me right now."
He smiled and took my hand in his gloved one. "I understand the embarrassment and difficulties families can cause. My aunt, for example."
The car horn blared: Byron was ready to go. I hoped he was eager to see Gina again, though I didn't know if he'd even talked to her or knew we'd be kidnapping her and going to breakfast. It was also very possible and probable that he just wanted to get away from the wreckage of his first major project. If that was the case, I hoped seeing Gina would make him happier.
It was not a happy homecoming. Mom was less than pleased to see Davlin and me, though the sight of Byron seemed to make up for it. She went into raptures when he walked through the door.
Poor Davlin didn't make it more than two minutes in the house before excusing himself, if it could be called that. A frantic dash for the door is hardly polite, though I can't blame him. Mom's not the best housekeeper on a good day and this was most definitely not a good day.
"I see Mr. High-And-Mighty is above our company," Mom sniffed. "Can't bear to see our tragedy! You'd think he'd be gloating."
I covered my surprise at her vocabulary by rubbing my eyes. "Ma, he's not gloating. He's just got this thing about being in messy, cluttered places, and you gotta admit this isn't exactly pristine. And some might not see Lydia running away as a tragedy, at least not in light of the resort burning down."
Thus began the caterwauling. Byron was too stunned to act, as was Gina, which left me to grab them both and haul them outside. Mom really didn't need an audience when she got worked up and wouldn't even notice us leave.
Ben had long since snuck outside.
"Why'd you have to go start something like that, Elise? She's having a hard enough time as it is."
"A thousand reasons, Ben. Her youngest daughter is an accomplice to an act of arson that destroyed a million-dollar resort, leaving a couple hundred people out of work and my employer out of a major investment. Lydia running away is probably a good thing from a legal standpoint."
"Not if she's a minor," Ben said.
"I don't need this right now," I replied. "I'm going to breakfast with my friends. Mom'll cool down in a few hours, and I'll be back then. When's Sarah getting here?"
"Not until tonight."
"Then I suggest you make yourself scarce for a while, then," I said. "I'll call you when it's safe to come back"
Ben looked back to the trailer with a grimace as Mom started into a new stream of wailing about her personal misfortunes.
"Perhaps that's a good idea," he said. "But is it safe to leave her alone like this?"
"Megan's here. She's good at tuning out everything but the sound of a body hitting the floor. Mom'll be fine, though. She survived Dad walking out on us, and Megan, Gina and me going away to college. This is a cake walk."
"If you say so." Ben was not convinced.
"If I'm wrong, Ben, I'll let you tell me so. And if you're worried, you're welcome to stay."
The deciding factor was a crash as something breakable was thrown against a wall. The whole trailer shook and we high-tailed it out of there. Ben hopped into his truck and headed south on the main road. We went north.
It was a quiet ride, all of us thankful to be putting miles between us, Mom, and the White Pine Lodge. I navigated while Davlin drove. Gina and Byron cuddled in the backseat as much as the seatbelts allowed, their reconciliation quick and painless. I even saw Davlin grin once when he looked in the rearview mirror. At least some good came out of all this.
We stopped at a little hole-in-the-wall type restaurant, a pretty little family-run diner that prided itself on serving good food in a clean establishment. Davlin gave it a once-over glance and visibly relaxed, which made me happy.
The booth held the four of us, and the diner was mostly empty. Church services would be ending soon and people would be drifting in for lunch or brunch or whatever before going grocery shopping for the week, the weekly tradition. For the moment, however, it was quiet.
And it drove us all crazy. At the very least it drove me crazy. We took turns staring at each other for a few minutes, Gina very confused about my willingness to sit so close to Davlin Fredericks. Especially because our hands, my right and his left, were under the table for the same reason Gina and Byron's were!
"Someone has to say something," I said. "Much as I like quiet, this doesn't seem the right time."
"How so?" Davlin replied, raising one eyebrow. "Are you an expert on dealing with traumatic situations?"
"I am an expert on not thinking about traumatic situations. I just want to talk about something, anything. I don't want to just stare at people for the next hour."
There was a moment of silence again before Davlin spoke, not apparently noticing that Gina was about to talk too.
"Why don't you swear?" His question was directed to me, catching both myself and Gina off guard. She recovered first and burst out laughing.
"She's got a bet going with our dad!" she giggled.
"What?"
I sighed. This wasn't exactly what I meant, but beggars can't be choosers, can they? "When I got out of college, and up to a couple of years ago, my language was absolutely foul. Every other word was some sort of profanity whether I meant it to be or not. Made Gordon Ramsay look like a little schoolgirl."
Davlin contemplated this revelation, lips pursed. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I hoped he was amused by the Gordon Ramsay comparison.
"Anyway," I continued, "I had just gotten the job at White Pine Lodge, which was my first job dealing with the public. Manny wrote me up twice for swearing within earshot of the customers, as at least one little old lady complained, and somehow Dad heard about it. He's never really be around much, as you may have noticed."
Davlin and Byron nodded. Gina was still trying to control her giggling.
"So, Dad calls me up and tells me how disappointed he is that his little girl, his little artist, lacks the creativity needed to come up with socially acceptable alternatives to swearing. Since he knows that I had, er, have a lot of student loans currently in repayment, Dad struck a deal with me. For every month I could go without swearing, he would pay $1,000 towards my loans, and if I could go a whole year he would pay all of them off."
"That's a powerful incentive. I shudder to think how I could afford Evey's tuition alone if…" Davlin caught my eye before the next part left his mouth and quickly amended it. "If she didn't have all those scholarships."
"Nice save," Byron muttered. "What I'm wondering is how your dad knows if you've kept your end of the bargain. You said he doesn't keep in touch very well."
"It's the honor system," Gina said. "It's a double whammy to Elise, and God knows she's just stubborn enough to see it through."
"Yeah, yeah. He hit my ego first with the creativity comment, then hits it again with the honor thing. And really, while the thought is nice, I don't expect him to keep his end up. If he had that kind of money, do you think I'd be in that stinking trailer with a Harpy for a mother?"
"I don't think you're as mercenary as you imagine yourself," Davlin said quietly. "I don't believe you would leave your mother so quickly without at least making sure she was capable of being self-sufficient. With regard to your father and his finances, there are many possibilities to be considered before judgment is made. I would imagine that if his daughter is anything like him, honor is an important part of his character and he wouldn't make a wager he had no intention of keeping."
"You don't know my dad," I said. If my recent conversation with him was any indication, Lester Benjamin had dubious morals if he had any at all.
"Perhaps not. You'll just have to wait and see."
"How long is it now, Elise?" Gina asked.
"Two weeks, give or take a day. I can't believe just this time yesterday I was meeting Davlin and Evey at the aquarium. It feels like ages since then!" And a little over 12 hours ago I was kissing Davlin… something I very badly wanted to be doing again.
Davlin tensed beside me, his hand gripping mine too tightly to be comfortable, his eyes trained on the hostess stand. I followed his glare and stifled a gasp. There, standing bold as brass, without a care in the world, was Jason Palmer.
"Call the investigator," Davlin whispered, handing me a card. He stood and started for the entrance.
Chapter Eighteen: Toffee Crunch
Posted on 2009-04-16
I panicked slightly as Davlin strode toward the hostess stand. Vigilante-ism is frowned upon everywhere, except Texas, apparently, and this was not Texas. Gina took initiative and the card and dialed the lead investigator.
"Davlin! Stop," I hissed. Too late, too loud. Jason heard, turned, and like the slime he is gave a mocking salute and ducked out the door. Gina, on the phone, gave a description of the getaway vehicle.
"He's in a…maroon Jeep Grand Cherokee, older model. Plate…"
"Why?" Davlin asked, brow furrowed, as he returned to our table.
"What would you have done?" I countered.
"I could have detained him!"
"How? He's got 30 pounds on you and can talk circles around anyone. Plus, I like your pretty face just how it is. No bruises or black eyes."
He tried to scowl, even managed to get the corners of his mouth to twitch down a few times. Byron laughed, Gina squealed. She looked at me with that classic "Just what have you been hiding?" expression. It was all I could do to remain aloof and calm, and even then I failed. My sister, sweet little dumpling that she is, is no slouch. I can't hide anything from her.
Breakfast was quiet and solemn, all of us preoccupied with the bad business at the resort coupled with Jason's appearance at the diner. Gina and I worried about Lydia and just how this stunt would affect us socially; I was worried more about the latter, Gina the former. There was no getting away from small town gossip, and our little sister just helped put a great number of people out of work right at Christmas. We would be guilty by association, even if we had absolutely nothing to do with it.
"Byron has booked a hotel for us," Davlin said as he placed a credit card on top of the bill. "It's probably best if we stay nearby for the next few days; the insurance inspectors will be out as soon as the police are finished, and I want to be on hand for whatever they find."
"Probably a good idea."
"Er, if you like, you and Gina are welcome to join us," he continued, a slight pinkness tinting the apples of his cheeks. He added quickly, "Another room would not be difficult to arrange, although I suspect and understand if you would want to be with your mother and sister right now."
"Personally, if I wanted to be with Mom right now, I would be," I said. "Lydia has always been her favorite, as you may have noticed, because they are so much alike. I'm like my dad, and you see how well that relationship is going. Sarah will be here soon, and she's usually good at dealing with Mom, and Ben's a load of help too. I'll talk with Gina and see what she wants to do, but I think we'll make a decision later. It's not like you guys can check in before 3 anyway."
He smiled and grasped my hand under the table. "How is it you always have a battle plan ready?"
"Years of practice plotting revenge."
There was a collective reaction when Davlin pulled the car into the driveway at the trailer a few hours later. Gina and I gasped; the guys swore. There was the same maroon Jeep we saw at the diner. And I thought Jason was at least marginally smart! Obviously I was mistaken.
Gina called the police without being asked, the dear girl, as Davlin blocked the driveway. I was out of the car before it stopped moving and the guys were hot on my heels. My sister stayed to wait for the cops.
"Elise!" Mom cried, her face radiant and smiling, "You won't guess what happened! Lydia and Jason just got married! Can you believe it?"
"Ma! They're wanted for arson!"
"But there's witnesses!"
"Tough toenails! Where are they now?"
"Lydia's getting her things together, and Jason's in the bathroom. Can't you give them the benefit of the doubt, Elise? Be happy for your sister! It's not every day you get married!"
"It's not every day someone is caught on film setting fire to a resort, either!"
"Now, now, Elise," Jason said, his tone condescending, as he stepped out of the hall and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Photos can be doctored, you know, and security cameras are notorious for crappy film. I'm sure this can all be cleared up in no time."
"I'm glad you rate my own intelligence so poorly, Jason," Davlin said. Jason blanched. "Security systems have improved greatly in the last few years."
Jason recovered and glared at him. Where were the cops?
"I thought you were my friend," I said to Jason. I could almost feel Davlin's look of disbelief behind me. "I thought you were a good guy. But you're scum."
Mom scurried out of the room, making some lame excuse about helping Lydia pack. Jason looked at me, smirked, then looked up at Davlin.
"How's Evey, Dav? Has she gotten over me yet?" he asked, a devilish glint in his eye.
For perhaps the first time in a year I was struck completely dumb. Even knowing how much of an idiot and a slimeball Jason Palmer was, I could not fathom his ability to bring up such an extremely painful topic when there were two full-grown men in the same room with him, both of which would very much enjoy seeing him dance on the end of a rope.
Davlin surprised me. He succeeded in landing a blow square in Jason's mouth, splitting his upper lip and making him stagger backward into a chair. Jason sprang up again, wiping blood away, as Davlin shook out his hand.
"Never thought you'd have it in you," Jason snarled. "You were always such a prissy little boy."
Byron cracked his knuckles and looked murderous while I placed a hand on Davlin's arm. We didn't need any more difficulties. Of course, Jason had other plans.
"I'm not surprised you have Mr. Personality here for your bodyguard, Davlin," Jason said. "But the flaming witch is unexpected. What, did you manage to alienate any decent woman who might have had you, so you paid your little intern for companionship?"
I don't exactly remember what happened next, but it took Davlin, Byron and at least one cop to pull me off Jason, and my knuckles were bruised for a week. To everyone's surprise, especially Jason's, the cops refused to file charges against me. I heard something muttered about "shoulda known better than to tick off a redhead" as Jason was led away in handcuffs. As Gina told me later, the cops arrived just as I flew at him.
I felt bad for Ben and Sarah when they arrived a short time after that cheery little scene. Not only had they missed all the action, but they had to deal with Mom and her hysterics over how poorly Lydia and her new son-on-law were being treated. None of us really had the heart to tell her the marriage license was faked, that the whole elopement was a smokescreen to cover up the arson, and that yes, her precious little girl was truly capable of being a complete and total moron. At one point the paramedics were called and a heavy tranquilizer administered, which gave us all enough peace and quiet to figure out the next move.
"I'm not staying here," I said, hands buried under a towel and economy sized bag of frozen peas. Davlin stood behind me, his own hands on my shoulders, knuckles red.
"You're not leaving me here with Mom like this!" Megan said. "Not again."
"She should be in a hospital, I think," Gina said. "It took a lot of morphine to sedate her, and she might have a negative reaction."
Sarah agreed and the EMTs loaded Mom into the ambulance, telling me not to worry about the cost, she'd take care of it. By then fatigue was catching up with me, and coupled with the gathering darkness, I was too tired to argue. We agreed to find our respective hotels, call it a night, and meet up again in the morning. Megan was bundled into Ben's truck while Gina and I went with Byron and Davlin.
There was a slight argument and major pouting when Gina and I insisted on our own room, thank you very much, at the hotel. Byron looked like someone had kicked his puppy, and Davlin looked so dejected I almost gave in but didn't. Gina and I needed our privacy.
"You and Davlin?" she asked, nearly shrieking in joy. "When did this happen?"
"About 2 days ago. Sarah talked me into going to the Fredericks Building, which is absolutely gorgeous, and we ran into him there. Next thing I know, we agreed to meet up at the aquarium so he can introduce me to his sister and then was invited to dinner at his place."
"I thought you didn't like him."
"I didn't, at first, but he's grown on me. Like a fungus."
Gina laughed.
"Really, though, he's changed," I said. "I got to know him better, or at least understand him better, and while we were in Chicago he was almost relaxed. His cousin said he's always been a bit twitchy, and that he got worse after what happened to Evey-"
"Please don't tell me you're with him because you pity him! That's terrible!"
"No! Nothing like that. You know me. Heart like coal. No, Gina, I really and truly like him. I like being near him. Yes, he's exasperating sometimes, but I can deal with it, and he's getting better. Besides, he can put up with me, which, let's face it, isn't easy."
She demurred, but I knew she was thinking it. I love my sister. She's transparent as glass.
Morning came far too early. First major difficulty to overcome: I'm not a morning person, and Davlin is. Yes, I can function before 7 a.m. but I don't like to, and I sure as shootin' aren't a shiny, happy person that early.
The "Early Riser" gene must come from his father's side of the family, because that's the only explanation I can think of to reason why Davlin's aunt came stomping down the hall at 6:30 that morning. Gina and I were getting ready to go to the hospital to visit Mom and get my hand X-rayed; the second knuckle on my right hand was very badly swollen, even after multiple ice packs and ibuprofen. The last thing I needed was Kathy Van Burke snorting fire and flame at me when I wasn't ready for her.
Gina, being who she is, opened the door. I would've left the woman outside, personally, save there were probably other guests still sleeping.
"I want to talk to you!" she said, spittle flying. "Ungrateful little wretch!"
"Beg pardon?" I asked. Gina stared, awed by the monstrous woman before her.
"You know why I'm here!"
"Um, no, I don't, actually. And I don't particularly care." I tried to close the door, but she persisted and actually stepped into the room. My sister scurried outside.
"Can you deny that you have actively sought to ensnare my nephew?"
"What?" I wanted to laugh. Such elevated language for little ole' me! "I have never "sought to ensnare" anyone, let alone your nephew. I don't think he's the type to be easily snared."
"Brazen hussy!" she continued. "I have it on good authority that Davlin has been in close contact with you for the last two days, closer than would account for a business relationship. You know he is destined to marry my daughter, yet you have enticed him, away from all family duty!"
"If he is supposed to marry your oh-so-charming daughter, I wonder why you think he'd fall for me. And if he would so easily stray from her, do you really want him for a son-in-law?"
"That is not the point! Any association with you and your despicable family would be total ruination for him and Fredericks International. I have a great care for my late brother's business dealings, and I will not see anything happen to affect its prestige!"
This told me much about what she was really out for: financial security for Ridgeway Wineries. If what I knew was correct, the vineyard was a vanity project for Kathy, something she was allowed to work on that, if it failed, would not affect the parent company. And she thought that if Davlin married her stick-figure daughter the winery would be safe and she wouldn't lose face!
"Mrs. Van Burke, I care greatly about Davlin and what happens to Fredericks International-"
"Good! Then you will step away and leave things as they are planned."
"No."
"Excuse me!?"
"I can't talk for Davlin, and I don't want to, but I have a good job and I'm going to keep it. I don't care what your plans are for him, but he's an adult and can make his own choices, and if he wants me around to help make those choices, so be it. I'll be here as long as he wants me and you'll just have to deal with it."
Davlin himself chose to enter the room at that point. I suspected he was lurking in the doorway, judging from the smug smirk, but didn't challenge him just yet. True to form, he was buttoning the cuffs of his neatly pressed shirt.
"Ah, Aunt Kathy. How good of you to drop by."
I think her brain exploded when he dropped a chaste kiss on the top of my head and wrapped one lanky arm around my shoulders.
"You cannot be serious!" she squealed. "You have an obligation to your family!"
"No, Aunt, I have an obligation to myself. As Elise stated, I am an adult; I've functioned on my own for the last fifteen years without major incident barring one, and that was, sadly, beyond my control."
He tensed at the memory and looked at the floor briefly to compose himself.
"I will decide what and who is best for me, Aunt Kathy."
"But her family! Her youngest sister has a criminal record! Surely you will not risk utter ruination just to please some base desire! Think of the press, the gossip!"
The way these people carry on! I was disgusted by the lot of it, and it did not escape my notice that I had just been called a tramp for the second time in less than 24 hours. This time, however, I couldn't launch myself and beat the snot out of her. My knuckles still hurt from the day before.
"You have worn out your welcome, Aunt Kathy," Davlin said, frost in his voice. "I will not allow you to insult Elise any further, and we have business to attend to. When you have reconciled yourself to the fact that I care very deeply for this woman, and can accept that, we may be able to move on. Until then, I will ask you to leave now."
Kathy sputtered for a moment, trying to regain some verbal footing and failing. She pursed her lips, radiating tension, and turned, walking stiffly out of the room and away. One obstacle down, two more to go.
Chapter Nineteen: Peppermint Chip
Posted on 2009-05-23
With Kathy Van Burke gone I was able to breathe again.
"Gina told me she was here. I thought to come rescue you, but you didn't need it."
"Don't sound so surprised," I said. "I work for you."
He laughed and kissed my head a second time. "Do you want breakfast before we go to the hospital?"
"We?"
"I didn't think you'd want to visit your mother alone," he said, then added, "Byron has already decided to go with you and Gina, and I didn't want to be left behind."
"I like the second reason better. It sounds more true." I considered for a moment. "I know Mom doesn't like you much right now-"
"I have a feeling she'll like me a lot more when we tell her we're together," he said.
"Oh, is that what we are? Moving a bit fast, aren't you?"
"I didn't say we're engaged. I think it's safe to say we've moved beyond the initial courtship stages, however, given our history."
"What history? Three months of working closely together followed by two months apart, one failed proposal, three more months of no contact, then a weekend spent running between two states trying to deal with a major catastrophe. That isn't exactly the stuff of romance novels."
He pouted. He's so cute when he pouts.
"You had to remind me of that horrid proposal, didn't you?" he said.
"Only because it was significant in its horribleness. I intend to forget about it as soon as feasibly convenient."
"Good. I will say this, however: the set-down you gave me rang for ages in my head. It was the kick I needed to make me look at my life and see what needed fixing. Without your refusal we might not be here now."
"You're getting mushy on me now. I don't know if I can take it," I said, tempering the sarcasm with a grin. Yes, sentimental Davlin was something new and somewhat weird, but I could get used to it. A little sappiness is appreciated now and then. However, no one has ever accused me of being romantic.
The hospital was not a pleasant place to visit. The staff were nice and all, but this is my mother we're talking about. Even doped up she was a handful.
"I wanna see my baby!" she wailed. "What did you do to my baby?"
"Momma, Lydia can't be here right now. I'm sure she's fine," Gina said.
"Lies! All lies! That one was jealous because Jason preferred Lydia to her, and she sent my baby away from me!" Mom continued, pointing at me.
Byron hustled a doctor into the room and through a mix of genuine concern and even more genuine intimidation got him to administer more sedative. I was ready to argue with her, but there was no point.
"I think we should consider admitting her somewhere," I said to Aunt Sarah. "She's clearly delusional."
"I hate to admit it, but that might be the best option."
The lot of us found a small sitting room and invaded it, Ben and Byron blocking the door. Davlin was outside making phone calls.
"You know how I feel about mental institutions," Megan sniffed. "While the treatment may be worthwhile, the stigma attached can ruin a person's reputation for life. I don't think Mom needs to go to one."
"Whatever your personal feelings are, Megan, you need to put them aside for Mom's sake," Gina said. "We're thinking of the greater good. You heard her in there; she will not accept that Lydia's been arrested, or that she had any part in the arson at White Pine Lodge."
"That, and she's just been getting more and more out of control lately," I added. "She spends way too much time at the bar and with Kevin. I'm not saying Kevin's a bad guy, but he does own the liquor store and, well, I think you get my meaning."
"So then she needs to go to rehab, not the loony bin!"
"Megan," Aunt Sarah said, "She needs to go to a hospital. I've known your mother for over thirty years, and the problems she's been having lately have almost nothing to do with alcoholism. You told me last night that she's had these episodes more and more recently. Yes, there is that stigma, but it shouldn't interfere with her getting the best treatment available."
"That's the sticking point," I said. "She doesn't need to be shut away for the rest of her life, however much that appeals to me on a certain level, but on the other hand we can't really afford the kind of long-term treatment that will get her really functioning again, especially now that all of us are currently unemployed."
"We can't make that decision, anyway," Megan huffed. "Daddy still has power of attorney. We don't have a legal right. The hospitals won't do anything without Mom or Daddy's approval!"
Hollywood could not have cued it better: no sooner did Megan's mouth close on the last snippy syllable than Lester Benjamin sauntered into the room. It was the first time any of us saw him in over two years, and he hadn't changed much. He wore a dark suit, light button-down shirt and discretely striped tie; the jacket stretched a little too much over his belly and the harsh hospital lighting shone too brightly off his increasingly bald head.
"Hello, Daddy," Gina said, the only one who appeared genuinely happy to see him. Megan was only pleased because she thought he'd back her up and I was still miffed at his high-handedness when it came to the Lydia situation.
"Hello girls. Sarah." He pulled up a chair while Sarah and Gina scooted aside for him.
"Long time no see, Dad," I said. "I'm so glad you managed to tear yourself away from work for a few moments to visit."
"We can talk about your attitude later, missy," he said, a small scowl lighting his face before glancing around at everyone else. "Now. I'm sorry things have gotten this bad. Yes, I have been rather absent of late. That can't be helped."
I snorted. He glared.
"I know you have all been talking about what to do with your mother. She needs professional help, and I agree that she should be admitted to a psychiatric hospital-" he raised a hand to silence Megan's protest. "Just until she stabilizes and a proper course of treatment can be determined. I don't imagine it taking more than a few weeks."
"And how will this be paid for?" I asked. "We're not exactly rolling in dough here!"
"I'll take care of it," Dad replied.
"Yeah, like you've taken care of everything else. Come on, Dad! What's with the smoke screen? We can't get a straight answer out of you!"
The look he gave me could set cement. "Elise. Outside. Now."
He dragged me out of the room, his grip on my arm hard enough to lessen the pain in my knuckles. Sunlight bounced off the fresh snowfall and seared my eyes as we stepped from the dark, climate-controlled interior out into the Michigan winter.
"Listen, honey, there are some things I just can't talk about," Dad snarled as he jerked me around to face him. "What I do is one of them. Yes, I work for the government. It's long, odd hours, but the pay is good. It's very good. And you know how it is with your mother and me; we just don't work."
"So then just divorce her and get out!"
"It's not that easy. A long time ago, when you and your sisters were little, we decided that it would be better for all of us if your mother and I didn't live together but stayed married. Believe me, my girls are important to me. The benefits far outweigh everything else, and it's not like your mother has ever suffered from a lack of companionship."
"It's not right!" I said, though I saw the logic in his argument.
"Regardless of how your moral compass is affected, it was a decision your mother and I made. You've made several decisions that I don't particularly approve of, but you've made them on your own and I don't question you."
He let me stew a moment on that. The wind had gone out of my sails, so to speak; I was tired of being angry with him, tired of the whole situation, and tired of fighting. I wanted the whole thing to be done and over with. Snow started to fall, small, hard-edged flakes that rimed the sidewalks and made walking treacherous.
"It's hard to believe you, Daddy," I said at last. "You've been gone for so long. I spent years trying to be the perfect little girl, hoping you'd come back. I don't care anymore. I've gotten so used to you not being there and not helping that I- I don't need you. They might," I said, waving at the hospital in general, the gesture encompassing my mother, sisters and aunt. "But I don't. If I thought my opinion mattered, I would say that you should go take care of your still-legal wife. I'm going to stay out here for a while."
"You can't just abandon them," he said. He probably thought I meant to walk away from my entire family and leave them to rot.
"I won't. I'm not like you," I replied. Davlin caught my eye, his expression solemn. He'd finished his call and was listening, all while trying not to look like he was listening. "I plan on moving out soon, and Gina probably will too. It's too early to know what's going to happen with White Pine Lodge, and our savings will only last so long. I don't even want to think about the horse-poop Lydia will have to deal with. I'm tired and I just want to sit out here in the quiet."
"I'll take care of everything," Dad said as he walked back toward the hospital doors, slipping twice but never losing his balance. "I promise."
I didn't even have the energy to scoff, let alone fire back the classic rejoinder "I'll believe it when I see it." Instead I sat with a whumph on the snow-covered retaining wall, too drained to care about the cold. Davlin came and sat beside me.
"Whatever he doesn't do, I will," he said. "You won't need to worry about anything."
"You don't have to do this," I replied. "In fact, you shouldn't."
"And why not?"
"Are you going to help out everyone employed at the Lodge? Everyone who lost their job because of my idiot sister and that scumbag?"
"Actually, yes, I am," he said, grinning. "My lawyers and accountants are working on a plan to accommodate those affected by the loss of the resort until a decision has been made to the future. They won't be pulling full wages, but neither will they be penniless. Byron and I agreed to that last night; I believe he thought I would resist."
"It's a lot of money," I said.
"White Pine Lodge, through Fredericks and Clarke, is a part of Fredericks International now," he replied. "Everyone who works for the Lodge gets the same care and consideration as those who work in our more prestigious resorts, and you know how well we take care of our employees."
"Yeah."
I stared at the frost patterns on the sidewalk, watching as the wind blew shards of snow in whirls and curls around our feet. Davlin kissed my temple, allowing me my quiet contemplation. Soon enough our butts would get cold and we'd head inside, back to the controlled chaos that was a hospital, especially a hospital that housed my mother. For that moment, however, I enjoyed just sitting there with Davlin beside me, out in the serene calm of a December day.
"I'm taking you to dinner," Davlin said later, as we left the hospital.
Megan and Dad had gone home to pack up stuff for Mom; the facility she was going to provided a list of items that were prohibited, and I suspected there would be a shopping trip in the near future.
"What?"
"I'm taking you to dinner," he repeated. "Just you and I. We can find a nice restaurant and have an evening to ourselves. Your aunt and her gentleman friend have taken Gina and Byron, leaving us with the car. We have… freedom."
"You make it sound like you've been kept here against your will."
He could not have looked more shocked if I had produced a halibut from my coat pocket and slapped him across the face with it. I wanted to laugh but I didn't have the energy.
"That's not true and you know it. I haven't had more than a moment alone with you in the last two days," he said when he recovered, pink in the cheeks. "I think we have a lot to discuss."
"Discuss?"
"Don't play dumb, Elise. We both know you're better than that."
I sighed. "I don't want to talk about anything serious right now. With everything that's happened in the last two days, "serious" is the last kind of talk I want. Frankly, I'd like to order a pizza, watch a movie and pass out. Alcohol optional."
"Perhaps a quiet night in would be better," he conceded. "So long as I don't have to share you."
One eyebrow raised; this was amusing. "Share me?"
"I think it's only fair," he said, grinning. "Every time I think I'm about to have you all to myself, someone takes your attention. I can be ruthless, you know, when I want something badly enough. No phones, no emails. Just you and me."
He kissed my forehead, then lightly kissed my lips. We stood there in the parking lot for a while, his arms around my shoulders, mine around his waist. It was nice.
Chapter Twenty: Chocolate
Posted on 2009-06-22
Half a pizza, 4 breadsticks and 3 beers later, the both of us were passed out on the bed, fully clothed, while whatever movie we chose -- I think it was An American in Paris -- played out on the TV. It blinked off somewhere around 2 a.m.; I vaguely remember Davlin moving around that time because it got colder for a few moments on that side of the bed.
The next day, Tuesday by my reckoning, I couldn't avoid the conversation we put off the night before. By then, however, I was more rested and ready. By the light of day it didn't seem so bad.
Davlin spent most of the morning with Byron, locked away in their room, making and taking phone calls. Lawyers, accountants, investors had to be consulted. Big Business was being done behind that door.
By lunch time we were all ready for a break and Davlin wanted to talk. Byron and Gina disappeared, more than likely to have a similar conversation.
"We have decided to rebuild the resort," Davlin said while we waited for our orders. "However, it's going to be at least a year before it reopens."
"That's good. At least, that it'll reopen. What's going to happen to the employees?"
"The insurance policy will allow reduced wages for about six months. I'm going to try to talk some of our investors into matching that amount for another six, but I can't make any promises."
"Anything helps, really." An idea hit, that favorite zing of lightning. "Ooh! Idea!"
"Oh?"
"The spring season will be gearing up soon. Would it be possible to work with some of the other resorts around here to get temporary placements for some of us?"
"Some of them," he corrected. "You and yours don't need to worry. But your idea has merit. I'll have Mrs. Ramberti start making enquiries this afternoon."
He caught my frown and sighed. "What?"
"You know perfectly well "what." My family does not need a handout, Davlin, or any special treatment."
"I admire your work ethic, Elise, truly I do. I didn't mean to imply that I expected you to give up your career-"
"That's what it sounded like! I'm not Candy. I'm not out to land me a rich man, even if I have."
"I know! I won't stop you from working if you want. I know better than to try and dissuade you." He took a long drink from his water. "I just want to know if you'd like to move down to Chicago, or if you are determined to stay here."
I knew this would happen eventually, that I would have to choose between the place that had been home for much of my life and the place that could very well become home for the rest of my life. The prospect was almost overwhelming, and would have been if I wasn't starting to get sick of Michigan.
There was a long pause. "Do I have to make a hard-and-fast decision right now?"
"No-o," he said. "It's a big decision. Byron intends to oversee the reconstruction himself and will be moving here until the resort reopens. Then I imagine he and Gina will return to Chicago. I have it on good authority that they will be engaged before the week is out."
"I would not be surprised," I grinned. "Good for them."
Davlin raised his eyebrows and frowned. "I think it's a bit soon myself."
"Well, you're not Byron. I'm not Gina. What works for them may not work for us."
"Perhaps. I have no objection to a long engagement."
I gave him credit for possessing a better sense of subtlety than I did; were our roles reversed, I would've just asked outright.
"I don't object either," I said, glad my ability to pick up on his cues was stronger than mine to deliver them. "For the record, did you just ask me to marry you again?"
He laughed. "No, I didn't. I have definite plans for a truly memorable proposal next time."
My insides went all wibbly when he smiled. I would miss that if stayed here.
"What exactly would I do if I moved to Chicago?" I asked, quieter than I intended. "I don't think it's necessarily ethical for me to continue working for you."
"Perhaps… perhaps if you relocate, you could focus on your photography and put together a gallery show. I have a few connections-"
"Just a few? Davlin, anything I do I want to do on my own."
"There's no harm in taking advantage of an offered introduction. All I would do is suggest they look at your portfolio. Your work speaks for itself."
Chicago was looking more and more promising.
"And where would I live?"
I love watching him blush.
"If you like, you can stay with me," he said. "Or I can find an apartment for you. Or you can find one yourself," he amended when he caught my eye, then sighed. "It's perfectly all right for you to avail yourself of the advantages being my girlfriend affords. My paying for things is one of those advantages."
"I think it's a bit soon to call me your girlfriend," I replied, squirming with pleasure on the inside. It sounded good, coming from him. Could I be softening? Perish the thought!
"That's irrelevant!" He was exasperated and started plucking at a napkin, folding it into a square and pressing it flat. He didn't look at me. "I-I have never experienced this depth of feeling for any woman. You confound me, infuriate me, and make me want more. I can't think of not having you in my life, Elise."
This was not what I was expecting, not in the slightest. I didn't intend to provoke that kind of response from him.
"I don't know what to say, Davlin," I started. A pause gave me enough momentum to just start talking. "I'm not a romantic, I'm not sentimental. I don't know how to be in a relationship; nobody's really ever been interested in me. I like you, I do, and I want to see where this goes, but I'm scared!"
He was confused, I could tell. "Why?"
"Hello! Moving out of the state, out of my time zone, without a job! The only people I know there are you and Mrs. Ramberti, and I only just met her face-to-face last week."
"You're concerned about being in a different time zone?"
The glare I gave him should have made all the hair fall out of his head. I'm moderately thankful that it didn't; he has lovely, dark curly hair. He grinned. Infuriating man.
"You are an amazing woman, Elise. I have seen you adapt to some of the most demanding situations without breaking a sweat and come through them with grace and style. If anyone should be frightened, it's Chicago."
I managed the weakest smile at that. There was still a lot to be nervous about, but… But Davlin would be there. With him nearby I could do anything. And he was right; I could take advantage of his connections to further my photography career. After all, it's not what you know, it's who you know, right? I was perfectly capable of making friends, and there were more opportunities for everything in Chicago.
Michigan had my home, my family, and friends. I didn't have a job at the time, however, although Davlin could arrange one when he arranged them for everyone else. I would miss Carla desperately, even if we saw less of each other since she married Toady Toddy and didn't seem to miss her as much as I thought. And my family… it would be good to get away from them. Aside from college I'd never lived away from home, and it wasn't like I was moving to California or something; if the past weekend taught me anything, it was that I could get from Chicago to home in less than 6 hours.
The issue was non-existent. When presented with all the facts, all the pros and cons, the only decision to be made was how long I wanted to wait.
"It's gonna take some time for me to get packed," I said.
Davlin stared at me for a moment, those gorgeous brown eyes nearly bugging out of his head. A bright smile spread across his face, going all the way up to his eyes. "So you've decided, then?"
"Yeah, sure, why not. It's about time I did something wild and crazy, like Sarah keeps telling me to do."
"I don't think it's wild or crazy to put yourself in a position where you can advance your career and social standing."
"Perhaps not, but I think moving to a new city just because someone asked me to could be classified as crazy," I said, grinning. "Even if that someone is insanely good looking and quirky, and someone I could very well be falling in love with."
And that was the truth.
Most of my belongings were packed up before I had the guts to tell my family about my plans. Truth to tell, packing didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would; I donated most of my old clothes to the local thrift store, and the majority of my books were in storage anyway. I shipped off the things I couldn't live without, and once I got settled I would come back and get the rest.
"You can't be serious." Ever the practical one, Megan voiced her objection first, following it with every argument I posed to myself earlier.
"Megan, please, shut up. You'll be pleased to know I've already thought of that," I said. She rolled her eyes.
"This does seem a little hasty," Gina said. "You've never been one to make snap decisions."
"I don't consider this a snap decision. There is a plan of action; I have an appointment with a gallery owner next week to talk about a show and I'll be living in Byron's apartment while he's up here. I have enough in savings to last me a couple months. This is a golden opportunity. I'd be a moron if I passed on it."
My father agreed with me, which was not surprising. He'd been trying to get me to move out for years now. Mom and Lydia were not present. Mom was still recovering at her "spa resort" and would be there for a few weeks yet at least; when we broke the news to her that I was moving to Chicago with Davlin, she reacted calmly and with grace, though that might have been the medication.
Dad paid Lydia's bail and she was being held in an undisclosed location until she could be brought to trial. From what I understood, Davlin and my father agreed to scare the bejeezus out of her by charging her with everything legally possible for her role in the arson at White Pine Lodge. I was assured that she would not escape punishment, but due to her minor status and the fact that she was an accomplice to the crime, as opposed to the mastermind, she wouldn't be punished as severely as Jason Palmer. Davlin told me, with a certain amount of devilish glee, that the only way Jason could wriggle out of the lawsuit would be if he hired a lawyer like Richard Mitchell, who was one of the most fierce defense lawyers on the planet, and there was no way that would happen. He was on Davlin's payroll, after all, and Jason wouldn't be able to afford a lawyer anywhere near as good.
"So everything's golden, then?" I asked, slamming the gate up on Ben's pickup. All of my worldly possessions that I cared to keep were loaded in. There wasn't much there, and less now that Davlin's luggage had been taken out and loaded onto an airport trolley.
"Seems to me. Nervous?" Davlin actually leaned against the truck, his coat matching the mud splashed on the shiny black paint.
"Aw, heck no! I am dead certain that everything's going to be absolutely fine from here on out."
"Fine? As in Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?" he asked, grinning. When the man unbent enough to make lame jokes like that, things had to be good.
"I'll leave the neurotic to you," I shot back. "But even with what's left, I know I'll be okay."
"Good. Now, are you certain you want to drive? It wouldn't be any trouble to get another plane ticket."
"And it wouldn't be a problem if you decided to ride shotgun. We agreed. You get home first because you have work to do. I'll take my own sweet time getting there; next week is Christmas, and schools are already out for the holiday break, so traffic's going to be gnarly." I held back a laugh as Davlin silently twisted his lips around that last word. "I need to practice driving to and from Chicago anyway, and if worse comes to worse I pull over and call for help."
"I'm not comfortable with this plan."
"Davlin, I'll be fine. As soon as I drop you at the airport, I'm heading south. I'm going to crash as Sarah's house in Grand Rapids tonight and get a fresh start tomorrow morning; I should be home well before 5. Heck, I might even make it in time for lunch!"
"It shouldn't take you more than 3 hours to get there."
"I know."
We lapsed into silence then. I joined him in leaning against the truck; he draped one long arm around my shoulders. The momentousness of the occasion was not lost on me: this was a huge step! Not only was I leaving home with no intention of returning, at least not as a resident, but I was moving into a new life with a man who drove me absolutely bonkers in every way imaginable.
"We should get going," Davlin said at last. "I have a plane to catch, and you have a long drive ahead of you. Drive safely, all right? I'll call you as soon as we land."
"Good. I will. I just have one stop to make, then I'll be on my way."
"One stop?" An eyebrow raised, the real question going unasked.
"Just something I have to do. It's tradition."
He wasn't satisfied with my answer, but he didn't press. Instead he leaned down and kissed me, the sweetest kiss yet, and as a result I considered his offer of flying over driving. Time, however, was against that revision in plans and we reluctantly parted. I watched him disappear into the airport and waited until I could not see him at all before climbing into the truck.
Twenty minutes later I walked out of a chocolate shop with four packs of fudge. I stowed them in the cooler beside me on the front seat and headed south. All things considered, life was good.
The End