Flirting with Felicity (4 page)

Felicity entered Saint Francis House, the assisted
living facility where her father lived, and took the elevator to his room on
the third floor. After a soft knock on the door that she knew he wouldn’t
answer, she let herself in.

As usual, her father sat in his chair by the window, looking
over the city’s busy streets below. Her father had always loved to watch
people—the way they moved from one place to another. Before the accident, and
when he wasn’t working on the ferries that shuttled people and cars from one
part of Puget Sound to another, he’d been a time-lapse photographer. He’d set up
his camera in various places around the city and capture the movement of the
people and cars along its streets. “A day in the life,” he used to call it.

As she pulled up a chair beside him, she wished he still used
that camera to see the world. But maybe he did the same kind of thing as he
watched the day pass from morning to night in front of his window. She didn’t
know what he thought about or even if anything registered anymore. He hadn’t
said a word since the accident. But his silence didn’t stop her from talking.

“Hey you.” She leaned over and kissed her father on the
cheek. He was warm and smooth and smelled like talcum powder, just as he did
every day following his hospitalization from the injury. “You look good,” she
said, taking his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. He never squeezed back.

Daily she told him all the details of her often too-ordinary
life. She’d talked to him for the last three years about Vern and his antics at
the restaurant. In many ways, the shadows that haunted Vern’s eyes reminded her
of her father. Although Vern could talk and respond to those around him, she
knew that look of loneliness and regret. She’d never figured out what Vern’s
regrets were, but they were definitely there.

Felicity shook off the thought and returned her attention to
the man beside her. “I got some great news today, Dad. You know that
experimental therapy Dr. Mackie wanted to try? Well, you’re going to start your
first treatment soon. Your procedure is scheduled in two days. The doctor wants
to keep you in the hospital for a couple of days afterward for observation. And
don’t worry about the money. My savings will cover it. We’re going to be fine.”
For a
while at least.
She wouldn’t wait until everything was settled
with Blake. She and her father had waited too long for this procedure already.
This was one gamble she was willing to take.

The Northstar procedure was having considerable success, Dr.
Mackie had told her when she’d called him on her nine-block walk between the
hotel and Saint Francis House.

“The idea behind the treatment is that the doctor will shut
down the right side of your brain using transcranial magnetic stimulation—he
called it TMS—especially in the areas involved in speech, allowing the weakened
side of your brain to form new connections that might restore your speech.”

Her father continued to stare out the window, expressionless
as always.

Felicity continued, “You’ll have speech therapy every day for
the next week. And either you’ll make some progress, or we’ll determine if a
second treatment is advisable.”

Again, he showed no sign of having heard a thing she said.

Despite his unresponsiveness, Felicity couldn’t hold back a smile.
Just the thought of actually doing something proactive for a change instead of
waiting to see if he ever recovered filled her with a renewed sense of hope.
Dr. Mackie had given her all the usual warnings about getting her hopes up, but
she couldn’t help it. Her father hadn’t said a thing to her in thirteen years.
She didn’t even need words for the treatment to be a success. She simply wanted
to look into her father’s eyes and see something other than the emptiness
brought on by the brain trauma he’d suffered years ago.

“Now, on to other news,” she said, settling in beside her
father. She told him everything that had happened to her that day—about Vern’s
funeral, about him giving her the hotel and restaurant in his will, about
meeting Blake, and about moving into the Bancroft Hotel so she could save money
to pay for the new treatment.

She’d never been able to talk to her father about the
intimate details of her life before the accident. She’d been too young to
really see him as anything other than a parent. The accident had changed their
roles. Felicity had always believed their newfound relationship, even though it
was terribly one-sided, had been a blessing that had come out of their shared
tragedy. But on the tails of that sense of peace came a piercing stab of guilt,
acrid and sour. It didn’t seem fair that she’d been allowed to walk away from
that accident when her mother and father had paid so dearly.

She’d been grappling with the unfairness of life ever since.
And instantly her thoughts moved back to Blake. Was it fair that she’d been
given something that should have been his legacy? Did she truly deserve the
gift Vern had given her?

She wished in that moment that her father could talk and give
her advice, the way a father usually did when his daughter was in crisis.
Instead, she touched his chin with affection. “See you later, alligator,” she
said the way her father always had in the past before leaving her. In a softer
voice she echoed her response, “After a while, crocodile.”

She’d get no advice from him today, but now there was hope
that maybe she would in the future.

Felicity walked back along Terry Avenue toward the
hotel when she saw Mary Beth wave at her from the opposite side of the street.
Felicity watched as Mary Beth crossed the street. The young woman was small and
quite fragile looking, though Felicity knew that wasn’t the case. Mary Beth was
tough. She’d had to be in order to survive the last few years. “What are you
doing here?” Felicity asked at her approach. “Where’s Amelia?” It wasn’t yet
time for work, and Felicity knew her friend liked to spend as much time as
possible with her baby.

“With my brother. Until I had Amelia, I didn’t know how lucky
I was to have him living at home with me. I needed a break today. We had another
tough night.”

“Teething again?”

“Amelia decided to get her front bottom teeth at the same
time, but they finally broke through. There’s hope for sleep tonight.” Mary
Beth did look tired, but even so, she was dressed like she’d had all day to
pull her outfit together. Her leggings, pink silk tunic top, and
metallic-colored Roman-inspired sandals were stylish yet cool enough for the
warm Seattle day. And, despite the fact that she’d had a baby less than six
months ago, Mary Beth always managed to look her best—a lesson from her former
life as a Seattle socialite that had not vanished along with her family’s
fortune.

Side by side they started walking toward the hotel. “Why come
to the hotel early for work when you have help at home? I’m sure there are a
million other things you’d rather be doing.”

Mary Beth slid a guilty look Felicity’s way. “Besides needing
to change into my kitchen clothes? All right, if you want the truth, I heard
the news, and I just had to hear it from you myself.” She stopped walking, forcing
Felicity to do the same. “Did Vern really leave you the hotel and restaurant in
his will?”

“News travels fast,” Felicity said with a chuckle. “Who told
you?”

“Hans texted me.”

“It’s true,” Felicity admitted, pulling Mary Beth over into
the entrance of the alley behind the Bancroft Hotel so they could talk more
privately.

“Oh my God,” Mary Beth whispered. “This is the best news
ever. It’s about time something good happened in your life.”

Memories of Felicity’s past tiptoed into her mind. She saw
the shoddy trailer park in the south end of Puget Sound she’d once called home.
She saw her father, sitting in his chair, the same chair he sat in every day,
all day, staring out the window as though waiting for her mother to return.

Luck had not smiled upon them then. Her father had been
placed in a run-down nursing facility. It was all they could afford. And,
because she was sixteen and had no other relatives to rely on, she’d been
placed in foster care for a short time until she could legally declare herself
an emancipated minor and return to the trailer, taking her father back home
with her.

“I still can’t quite believe it’s true.” Felicity shook off
the memories and looked past Mary Beth, to the seventh-floor windowsill where
five pigeons perched together, cooing softly to one another as they did every
day. Nothing had changed in their lives, even though the very foundation of
hers had shifted.

“You signed papers, right?” Mary Beth asked.

Felicity nodded, bringing her gaze back to her friend. “Several
of them.”

Mary Beth grinned. “Then it has to be true.”

Instead of joy, fear rushed through Felicity in a chilling
wave. “Vern’s nephew is here to challenge me for ownership.”

Mary Beth’s smile vanished. “That doesn’t matter, does it?”

“I wish I knew for certain. Vern might have wanted me to
inherit the Bancroft, but Blake doesn’t look like someone who will back down
easily.” Felicity clenched her hands together, not only at the thought of
losing something that had suddenly become vital to her life, but also at the
fact that she once again had to pretend she was indestructible.

She’d tried so hard to keep her fears at bay in the days and
months after the accident, when it was determined her father would never be
able to work again. His pension was all they’d had to keep their small family
out of poverty, and it had just barely covered their expenses. Felicity had
learned how to make the money stretch from month to month, and it was then
she’d taught herself how to cook, not because of a burning desire, but out of
necessity.

During those years, Felicity had created a special world for
herself and her father. The fear of losing even the run-down trailer or the
ability to pay the bills threatened to destroy her daily, while she focused on
finishing high school. But the fantasy of keeping everything as it was in case
her father miraculously improved had given her something to cling to in the
darkness—a reason to keep believing, to keep up the pretense that no one and
nothing could harm her.

“Blake Bancroft might finally be the one who breaks me.”

“No,” Mary Beth said, emphatically. “He will not. I won’t let
him. You’ve worked so hard for me, for so many people. You’re a good person,
Felicity. Vern knew that. With his gift he obviously wanted to see the goodness
you give to others flow back to you.”

Mary Beth was referring to Felicity’s Hungry Hearts program,
through which she brought the homeless into her kitchen during the off hours
and taught them not only how to cook but gave them the skills and the
references they needed to search for employment in the food service industry.
Mary Beth was a recent graduate of her program, and Felicity had hired her to
work with her in the Dolce Vita. Mary Beth had a talent for baking that rivaled
many professionally trained bakers.

“Good things don’t usually happen to me, and when they do it
makes me a little nervous,” Felicity admitted.

Mary Beth’s brow knitted in a thoughtful frown. “Weren’t you
the one who lectured me at length about accepting what was put before me and
being grateful? Or was that lecture for your students’ benefit and not your
own?”

The words brought a fleeting grin to Felicity’s face. “I am
grateful, believe me, especially for your friendship.” Of all her friends, Mary
Beth knew what it was like to be on top of the world one moment and to have it
crash around you the next. Mary Beth’s parents had lost everything in the stock
market crash of 2008. Their family had tried to hang on to their wealthy
lifestyle for a few years, but they’d all drifted apart. Her parents had moved
to Mexico. Her brother had entered the military. She’d moved in with her
boyfriend until he’d thrown her out when she’d told him she was pregnant.