Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge (19 page)

BOOK: Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge
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In one last thrust, her insides erupted into
exultation. A gala of beauty and wonder had her marveling at the
sheer joy engulfing her entirely. He must have felt the same for he
cried out in ecstasy before collapsing his large and heated body
onto her own.

They lay there for many minutes, the only
sound coming from their combined heavy breathing.

At last Dexter drew back and rolled over to
the other side of the bed. She looked over at him, hoping he would
say something, but he remained silent, staring up at the dark
ceiling. An unwelcome coldness filled her heart, having nothing to
do with the room's low temperature.

“Dexter?” Her voice sounded unsteady, but she
needed desperately to feel wanted, at the very least.

He didn't respond right away, just continued
to stare up at the blank ceiling. But when Laura attempted his name
again, her voice cracking this time, he looked her way. She stared
at him with eyes glistening with unshed tears. If he were to crawl
back into that shell of his, it would surely destroy her.

Then, without a word, he reached over and
pulled her into his arms. She gave a shudder of relief before
cradling herself against his chest. He did care. Even just the
smallest and at that moment only, but it was all she needed.
Closing her eyes she fell into a deep restful sleep in the arms of
the man she loved.

CHAPTER 8

She awoke the next morning to the hushed
sounds of someone moving about the room. Fluttering her sleepy eyes
open, she pulled herself into a sitting position. A few feet from
the sofa bed with his back to Laura, Dexter silently dressed
himself.

“Dexter? What are you doing?”

He glanced over his shoulder and noticed her
naked from the waist up. Turning away instantly, he commanded in a
gruff voice, “Cover yourself up.”

Frowning, but obeying nevertheless, she
watched in confusion as he straightened himself from tying his
boots. His face appearing more relaxed. “I didn’t mean to wake
you.”

She ignored this comment. “Where are you
going?”

He gave a mocking chuckle. “Home. I do have
to return to a job.”

“How? I thought your car—?”

“I'll use the surplus gas stored in the shed.
It will get me to the next gas station.”

“You have to leave now? Can't you wait—I
mean-w-we could have breakfast together.”

“I'll grab something quick from a bakery on
my way home.” He smiled dryly before reaching for his tie and
slipping it over his head, all the while avoiding eye contact.

“Give me a few minutes and I'll be dressed
and packed—”

“No.” He interrupted as she flung back the
bed sheet and prepared to get up. “Stay where you are—and, dammit,
cover yourself up.”

Stunned and slightly hurt, she searched his
eyes. “I don't understand.”

He returned to the task of dressing himself,
however with more speed. “You're not coming back with me.”

A dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach
began to slowly swell. “Why not?”

“It's best this way.”

“Wh-hat way?” The ache began to inflame.

“Look, Laura, I'm not sure what you're
expecting, but I think you've gotten the wrong idea.” He shrugged
her off nonchalantly.

She tried to quench the growing pang as it
crept toward her heart. “I want us to be together. I love you and
you love—”

“No!” he barked savagely, unexpectedly
changing his demeanor. “What we shared last night had nothing to do
with that.”

The blood drained from her face. “But you
said you loved me—”

He held up a hand as to stop her. “No, I
never said that.”

“You said you wanted me.”

“Dammit, Laura! I was eager and you were
willing!” The cold-hearted words had her gasping.

“You're lying.” Dampness filled her eyes and
blurred her vision.

He swore and turned angrily on his heel
toward the door. “Stop living in your inane daydreams. What
happened last night occurred between two consenting adults. I
didn't coax you into anything you didn't want, and I certainly
never made any promises I never intended to keep.” At the door he
stopped and looked back. “Welcome to the twenty-first century.
People sleep with each other all the time, and preferably with
someone they know. I thought that's what we were doing. I'm not
sure where you get these misguided thoughts, but I suggest you grow
up and face the real world.”

Gradually, coldness began to creep through
her veins as she sat there listening to his sordid reasoning of
their night together. When at last he finished, she stared across
at him, dry-eyed.

“I might have been misguided where you were
concerned and foolishly misunderstood last night, but I assure you
that mistake won’t happen again.” She lifted her chin slightly. “I
may live childishly in a fantasy world, and unfortunately follow my
heart rather than my head, but I would most definitely prefer that
over a world void of caring. The only mistake I see I've made is
following all the wrong directions. You see I want a husband and
children and a house to call a home. I want to be part of a family
again; I don't want to be alone any more. I want to be loved and
loved in return.” Her voice cracked on this last sentence.

He stared unemotionally across the room at
her without uttering a word. She felt her reserve begin to shake
and prayed she would not break down and start crying. The tears she
would save until later when he was gone.

At last he blinked in articulate slowness,
then looked her squarely in the eye before stating simply, “Goodbye
Laura.”

Then he was gone. A spasm of cries shuttered
her tiny frame and had her hovered over in pain. She never really
believed a heart could break until that very moment. A feeling akin
to the shattering of millions of tiny pieces exploded beneath her
breast.

She cried for a long time after, until
finally she drained herself of emotion. Her brain had gone numb
from the memory of every painful word he said. In a daze she walked
down to the washroom, turned on the shower and stood under the
caressing warmth of the water. The only thing she knew for certain
was she wanted to go back to bed and never wake up.

At last, the soothing warmth penetrated her
conscious and began to clear her oppressed mind. It was then her
own words came back to her. She believed in her dreams and the need
for a family. She would not spend any more of her young life alone.
Her heart ached to be wanted as well as needed and loved. Tomorrow
would be a new beginning. The path to happiness awaited her and
with eagerness she would follow it.

A tiny scar on her heart would be her only
reminder it had already found its destiny in a detestable and
undeserving man with unrequited feelings.

 

* * *

 

A few days later, Laura returned to
Bracebridge. Without wanting to face Adell, she returned the car at
a time she knew the older woman would not be home. Her humiliation
with her last encounter with Dexter O'Reilly was unbearable. There
was a need to put some distance between herself and the man, which
included his kind and loving mother. The very threat of seeing
Dexter again so soon after their unification kept her away. At the
least, she realized, she owed Adell Cameron her gratitude for all
she had done for Laura. Her tiny gesture of flowers and note of
thanks would temporarily have to do. Sometime in the future, when
Laura felt it safe, she would contact the woman and properly thank
her in person.

Instead, she headed west out of town towards
her home. She could no longer shroud herself from the inevitable.
It was time to face her loss. Time to let go of childhood memories
and cherished mementos, and form new ones for the future. A future
she realized with a sodden heart that appeared desolate and gloomy.
Scolding herself for allowing Dexter’s unrequited feelings to get
the best of her, she disembarked from the city bus a block away
from her home.

As she neared closer, her chest tightened in
apprehension until the two-story home loomed into view. Her feet
came to an abrupt halt as she stared up at what was supposed to be
a post-apocalyptic like home, but instead, a pristine unspoiled
house stood before her. She blinked several times at the
unbelievable scene before her, then literally squeezed her lids
tightly shut before opening them once more.

Standing before her, as it always had, was
her family home, however, with shiny new bricks and windows and an
attic that replaced the gaping hole where the fire had initiated.
Rising proudly before the morning dawn with all its walls standing
proud and erect, along with a newly built roof looking for all its
worth like a shiny new halo. Any evidence of a fire nowhere to be
seen.

With trepidation she advanced up the front
porch only to come to an abrupt halt when the front door opened and
a large robust man wearing plaid and jeans exited the entrance.

He looked up upon noticing her and bestowed
her with a friendly grin. “How do you do ma'am? How can I help
you?”

Taken aback, Laura frowned before finding her
voice. “My name’s Laura Witherow. I own this place. Who might you
be?”

His grin grew wider as he shifted a drill he
carried under his arm to extend a hand towards her. “Nice to
finally meet you ma'am. The names Potter, Joe Potter. I’m the
fellow contracted to renovate your home.”

Dumbfounded, she said, “I never hired a
contractor.”

One brow arched in surprise. “Go figure?”

“I don’t understand. What are you doing here?
Who hired you to fix my home?”

He lifted a hand to rub his chin as if to
contemplate her question. “I’m figuring maybe I shouldn’t have let
that slip, but he ain’t never mentioned a word about keeping it
silent.”

“He?”

“Yeah, big fellow.” He lifted his hand to
show her an estimate. “O’Reilly was the name.”

A jolt pierced Laura’s stunned form. “Dexter
O’Reilly?”

“Afraid I can’t rightly recall the first
name, ma'am. Kind of a gruff character though. Was on me and my men
to get the job done properly and on time.” Then giving her a short
nod, said, “Well I’m just finishing up here now, she’s all ready
for you. If you have any difficulties, you just give me a
holler.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell you what, exactly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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