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Authors: Gail Cleare

BOOK: Destined
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“Well, is anybody going to invite me
in, or do I have to trespass?”

Larson Moss had definitely arrived,
and stood posed in the doorway.

“Forgive us our trespasses, darling
Siri, don’t you know?” he vamped, as she sprang up and ran to greet her friend.

He was short, balding and dapper,
wearing a well-cut gray suit with a black T-shirt and a tasteful gold chain. He
had gold studs in his pierced ears. They hugged and she pulled him into the
room to make introductions. He giggled at something she said under her breath.

“Larson,” she said, “This is Emily,
and Tom’s friend Jim-from-work, and of course everyone else, you know.
Everybody, this is Larson, my friend from the food coop.” She finished and we
all greeted him.

Then I glanced back at Jim again, and
the mystery of his sexuality was immediately, utterly revealed. He stared at
Larson with his eyes aglow. His mouth had literally dropped open. Oh, he had
liked me, fine and dandy, but he was fascinated by this new guy. As in,
guy
. And Larson seemed quite taken with
Jim, too. He stared up at the big man with a look of delight on his face. The
sparks between them practically lit up the room.

I smiled over at Bella, who was
noticing the same thing. She shrugged her shoulders,
oh well!
We caught Siri’s eye too. She was
grinning from ear to ear. The men all talked on and Rolando Reyes came back
from across the hall with a beer in hand, to join in.

We three women excused ourselves and
escaped back to the kitchen. We burst into laughter. Bella threw herself down
into one of the kitchen chairs, clutching at her sides as she guffawed. Siri
and I clutched at each other.

“Well, I don’t think we have to worry
about Jim being lonely any more!” she gasped.

“Nope!”

“And may they live happily ever after,”
I added. “Anyhow, I’m kind of relieved.”

“You’re not still pining after that
handsome art dealer, are you?” Bella scolded, shaking her finger.

“I am not pining.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not, I’m just—oh,
nothing at all. I am feeling nothing. I’m just…bored.”

I pouted and frowned. I didn’t really
like them getting so close to the truth.

“Don’t worry,” said Siri. “You are
much too beautiful a person to be single for long.” She put her arms all the
way around me and hugged me once, hard, then let me go again.

“I know,” I protested, pretending to
brush her away. “OK, don’t get all sappy on me. I’ve got a lot of good things
going on for me right now, anyhow. I’m too busy to get depressed. Anyhow, I
like spending time alone. I get a lot done.”

The girls just smiled at me knowingly
and we all pitched in to get dinner onto the table. We all gathered round,
including the kids, except for the Reyes baby who was now asleep in her
port-a-crib despite all the noise. Tom carved the lamb and served it like an
old-fashioned host, sitting at the head of the table. Siri sat at the other end
across from him and passed around the steaming bowl of curried rice. Bella
dressed and tossed the salad, standing up to serve as people held out their
plates. I went around with a pitcher of ice water and poured some into every
waiting glass. Jim poured more wine. It was a happy, busy, noisy group as
everyone filled their plates and then their mouths, and we all enjoyed each
other’s company.

After dessert was over and everything
had been cleared away into the kitchen, where Tom and Jim were doing the dishes
while Larson sat at the table and supervised, I sat on the sofa with Siri’s
father, Gupta, drinking tea. He preferred a green jasmine tea called “Dragon
Pearls,” which was light and flavorful. This was the first time I had spoken
with him alone, and I enjoyed his intelligent conversation.

I was telling him about the girl Amy,
who showed up every few days to do some small chores and stuff herself at my
kitchen table, always holding back to save something for her mother, whom she
said was still sick and unable to work. She refused to tell me where they
lived, or her last name, or her mother’s name, or the whereabouts of her
father. I’d actually gotten pretty cagey about trying to trick the information
out of her, but to no avail. I was wondering if it was a mistake not to call
the police and get her some help, perhaps from the Department of Social
Services.

Gupta listened carefully to what I
said. He sipped his tea.

“Do you have any reason to suppose the
child is being abused?” he asked.

“No, not really. She is never bruised
or anything like that.”

“And, the mother? Is she someone in
need of protection?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Amy just tells
me she is sick. Perhaps she needs a doctor, or some medicine.”

He sipped the tea again and wiped his
gray mustache on a napkin. He looked thoughtful, putting down his cup.

“Do you know what I think?” he said
with certainty. “I think perhaps if you tell the police, they might take Amy
away to a foster home, and then what will become of the mother? Who will feed
her then, who will take care of her?
 
And, how will the family ever be reunited?” He grew animated, and waved
his hands in the air just the way Siri did when she got excited.

“But what should I do?”

“I think maybe it is not so hard to
find these people after all,” he said convincingly. “There are two places you
haven’t looked, that I can think of. There are probably more.”

“What do you mean?”

“First, the laundromat across the
street,” he said, pointing. “Everyone who lives in an apartment around here
goes there, at some time during the week, to wash their clothes.” He smiled at
me as I nodded in agreement, realizing the truth of what he said.

“Second, the church on the next
corner,” he continued. “They have AA meetings there with free coffee and
doughnuts, and sometimes soup or a potluck dinner. People who are hungry would
know this, and come there. Anyone is allowed to enter the meetings, anyone who
is accepting of help.”

He was right, of course. I told him
so, and thanked him profusely. Why hadn’t I thought of this?

“I have a good idea how we might keep
an eye on the laundromat,” he added. “Remember our young friend from downstairs
who likes chocolate cake?”

“Rashid?”

“Yes, of course. He is the perfect
investigator!”

I realized this was true, as well.
Gupta was a very wise man, and full of useful suggestions tonight.

“Leave it to me,” he said, rubbing his
hands together with a twinkle in his eye. I got the feeling that the old fellow
was actually going to enjoy this project.

“I will speak to the boy, and a few
others I know. We will soon locate Miss Amy, and find out the rest of her name,
too,” he said.

I decided to take his sage advice, and
to leave the matter in his hands for now.

The Wheel of Fortune
THE
UPS AND DOWNS OF FATE

Description:
 
A clock-like wheel is adorned with
symbols of the Universe. At the four corners are the fixed signs of the Zodiac:
the bull (Taurus), the lion (Leo), the scorpion (Scorpio) and the man or angel
(Aquarius).

Meaning:
 
The ups and downs of fate. Destiny,
fortune, luck. A risky situation. Unexpected occurrences, synchronicity, things
falling into place.

The next morning I took the early bus, arrived at work
around eight o’clock, and headed straight for the kitchen. Normally, I found
signs of my employer’s earlier presence in the room. He favored several cups of
Dark French coffee in the mornings, ground his own beans, and drank it black
and bitter. He was not an early morning breakfast eater. Usually he waited
until the first batch of scones came out of the oven.

Today, something was different. A
recently used cereal bowl was in the sink, with a spoon. I opened the fridge.
Six new containers of low fat yoghurt occupied one of the shelves. I poured a
cup of coffee for myself, thoughtfully, and took a sip. That was the clincher.
It was a light or medium roast, maybe Moca Java. Somebody I did not know was
here, probably having arrived last night, and they had brought their own food.

This could have meant any number of
things, except for the final clue, which I spotted when I looked out the window
into the alley. Parked next to the back porch was a brand new shiny silver
Toyota Prius.

Suppressing an involuntary pang of
regret for the Mercedes, I focused on the fact that Tony Novak was here, now,
in this very building. At this actual present moment! It had to be his car. I
ran into the little bathroom under the stairs and put lipstick on, brushed my
hair, breathed deeply, and went back to the kitchen in a more grounded state of
mind. I emptied the dishwasher and put the cereal bowl and spoon into it,
smiling and thinking, what luck that Siri’s matchmaking had worked out the way
it did, or I might have ended up with Jim last night! Wow. That would have
complicated things immensely. All from a lack of patience on my part. I vowed
to maintain a cooler, calmer attitude from now on.

I had put two cookie sheets of scones
into the oven and was well into assembling a double batch of dark chocolate
brownies when I heard their voices coming down the back stairs. My pulse
accelerated at the sound.

“I can tell by that delectable odor
that she is here, she is at work, and we are soon to be rewarded with a taste
of Heaven,” came Henry’s voice from the back hallway.

Tony laughed and said, “Aha!” in an
approving tone.

They sounded a bit giddy. I wondered
if they had been up late last night talking. The two men entered the kitchen.
Mr. Paradis looked frowsy and uncombed, and still wore his brown plaid flannel
bathrobe and slippers. Tony had obviously showered and shaved, and was dressed
simply in jeans and a clean white T-shirt. I couldn’t help noticing that it
clung to his body and showed off his nicely muscled chest and arms. His
straight dark hair had grown since I last saw him, and it was still wet. He was
barefoot and looked relaxed and at home. He smiled as soon as he saw me, his
eyes smiling too.

“Hello Emily,” he said quietly,
intimately. “Good morning to you.”

“More coffee?” Henry asked, bustling
over to the counter. “Good morning, Emily! Look what the cat dragged in last
night, at two in the morning!”

 
“How are you, Tony?” I asked, trying to seem casual. “It’s
good to see you!”

The timer went off and I opened the
oven door, mitt in hand, to pull out the scones. I suddenly realized I was
showing him a perfect view of my backside, which has received compliments in
the past, but might be sending a slightly inappropriate message at the moment.
I felt a momentary pang of embarrassment. My cheeks tingled as I flushed.

“I’m very well, thank you,” he replied
politely, in a distracted tone.

I turned around and saw that he was
actually looking out the window, peering at something in the alley. So was Mr.
Paradis. They gazed as they spoke, both standing with their hands on their
hips.

“What is that…person…doing with the
hose, Henry?”

“She’s just rinsing out the
recyclables, don’t worry.”

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