Teacup Novellas 02 - Strike the Match (7 page)

She finally looked up at him. “Oh. Well. You didn’t have to do that, but thanks. I’ll go turn them off.”

“Already did. But you should lock your car, you know. Even in Waterford Bay we have crime from time to time.”

“Thank you for that news flash, Mr. Big Time Reporter. I’ll try to remember that.”

He moved closer, then took a seat on the other end of the park bench she was sitting on. “Are you okay?”

He waited for another snippy reply. It didn’t come. He cocked his head to one side for a better angle. “Keri?”

“It’s all I had of her.”

“What? Had of who?”

“My mother. That cup and saucer were the only heirlooms of hers I had.”

“Did you lose them?”

“No. But Dad accidentally broke the cup. It shattered.”

He had no clue what was wrong but one thing he had no question about. This was not the same Keri he’d sparred with earlier. She was broken.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Nita told me your mother died when you were born. I’m sure it wasn’t easy growing up without her.” He looked out at the dark expanse of water, giving her time to respond. When she didn’t, he asked, “Would you like to tell me about it?”

She looked at him for a split second then away. “Uncle Rafe, Aunt Nita’s husband, was a war correspondent back in the seventies. He was in Yugoslavia, behind the Iron Curtain, reporting for the Associated Press. My mother was around twenty at the time. She worked at the hotel where he was staying. Uncle Rafe never met a stranger and he became friends with her. He was already married to Nita by then, so he was like a big brother to my mom. He said they’d talk for hours in the evening when she got off work.

“It must have been hard for her, living in a communist state where people just vanished in the night. Her own grandparents had been gunned down when she was younger. She lived in constant fear. She tried to get her parents to leave, but they were too afraid.

“Then one day, she asked Uncle Rafe if he would help her escape to the United States.”

“Pretty gutsy thing to do at her age,” Grant commented.

“They tell me she was a pretty gutsy girl, even back then. Rafe pulled some strings, used his connections, and engineered a very elaborate plan to help her escape. Literally, in the dark of night, he snuck her out of the country. Like something out of a spy novel, you know? He brought her back here. He and Nita took her under their wings and became her sponsors. She was eventually granted political asylum. She owed her life to them.”

“And the cup and saucer? Something she brought with her?” Grant asked.

“The
only
thing she brought. Other than a couple changes of clothes. She wrapped it in a sweater in a small bag. It made the trip without a single chip.” She took a deep breath and continued. “It was a part of her family’s dinnerware. A beautiful hand painted design by Lomonosov. Rafe said she wanted something to remember her parents, and they let her take a single cup and saucer. She knew she’d never see them again.”

Keri wrapped her knitted scarf more tightly around her neck. “Her name was Nadia. They tell me it was love at first sight when my dad first met her. He was a couple years older, but he was a goner the minute they met. They were married three months later. Nita told me it was the happiest she’d ever seen Tyler. A few months later, they found out they were going to have me.” She smiled. “Nita said that was the second happiest she’d ever seen Dad.”

A moment passed. The breeze blew her hair around her face before she pushed it back out of her eyes. She dug in her pocket and pulled out a tiny red band that she used to pull her curls into a thick pony tail. “Mom died after giving birth to me,” she said quietly, looking out across the dark waves.

He said nothing, giving her time to say what was on her mind.

“Nita told me Dad poured his heart into his business. Buried himself in it. I mean, he was always there for me, but it was hard for him, I’m sure. As I grew older, I loved helping out when I could. I guess it was good therapy for both of us. Which is why his company means so much to him. To both of us . . .”

He started to say something and let it pass. He knew she was hurting but he couldn’t help it. He liked being here, listening to her, learning more about her.

“It took me a long time to get over the whole guilt thing. If it hadn’t been for me, Mom would still be alive today.”

“Keri, surely you don’t —”

She waved him off. “I know, I know. But try telling that to a young child when she finds out her mother dies giving birth to her. Pretty hard stuff for a kid. But eventually I understood. Still—”

“What happened to Rafe? Didn’t he die overseas?”

“Yeah. Fifteen years later, he was sent back to cover the Bosnian war. Same country, just torn into several different pieces. He stayed in the same hotel where he’d met my mother. One night, rebels bombed the hotel, knowing there were lots of foreign correspondents staying there. Uncle Rafe was killed in the attack.”

“Nita must have been devastated,” Grant said.

“She was. Broke her heart. But she has the strongest faith of anyone I’ve ever known. She says those first few years after Uncle Rafe was killed, she had to rely on her faith just to make it through every day. And she did.

“I, on the other hand, didn’t take it as well. I adored my uncle. He had spoiled me rotten, for all kinds of reasons. And I took full advantage of him, of course.” Another slight smile. “I couldn’t believe God took my mother, then had the gall to take my favorite uncle. I was pretty convinced God hated me.”

“You don’t believe that now, do you?”

“Mostly I try not to think about it. Or God.”

Grant shifted on the bench, facing her. Some day he’d like to talk to her about that. But not tonight. “So tell me about this cup and saucer. What did it look like?”

“The design has all these intertwining lines in cobalt that look like they’re tied with tiny little bows in 22 karat gold. In fact it’s called
Cobalt Net
because it resembles netting.” She continued describing it in detail to the point he could almost see it. He couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to find out something so precious was gone now. Especially after a day like today.

“I could take one look at that cup and saucer and instantly feel close to my mother. I never knew her, of course, except for the stories Rafe and Nita told me. And Dad, when he could talk about her. Aunt Nita told me the light went out of his soul the day she died.” She tried to smile, her lips trembling. “But she always said I was the one who put it back for him.”

Grant merely nodded, not wishing to interrupt her.

He watched her face begin to crumble. A haunting moan from deep inside gradually grew louder until she could no longer hold it in. She sobbed, the sound of it breaking his own heart. Without thinking, he scooted to her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She buried her head against his, the sobs still shaking her in his arms. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way.

As her tears began to slow, she pulled a few inches away from him. “I’m so sorry. I guess I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

“Like you reminded me earlier, ‘it’s been a day.’”

She wiped her face with the back of her hands. He handed her his handkerchief, another blue bandana.

“It’s clean. I promise.”

She wiped her eyes and nose, then refolded the handkerchief. “I still have your bandana from last night. I promise I’ll get these back to you. After I wash them.”

“No problem. Glad to help.”

“I guess that’s it. First the fire. Then finding out Dad could lose his company. Then he tells me Mom’s cup was smashed to pieces . . .”

“Wait. What do you mean, your dad could lose his company?”

Something flashed through her eyes before she looked down. “I probably shouldn’t say anything. It’s just a bad situation . . . apparently the Blankenship home was make-or-break for him.”

They sat in silence. Grant tried to imagine what it would feel like to lose so much in one day. After a lifetime already marred with loss.

“I’m sorry. Sorry for your dad. His business. And for you as well.”

“Me? Because I’m slobbering over a piece of china?”

“No, not that. I know you were counting on working for your dad.”

Keri stiffened her back and looked away. “Well, who knows, that could still work out. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Hey, why don’t we both just cut to the chase and admit it. We need each other.”

Her head snapped up as she looked at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I need some help. You need a job. Money is no object, so I know I can afford you. You’re interested in journalism. How better to learn the ropes than by jumping in feet first? We need each other. Plain and simple.”

She opened her mouth, then shut it. Opened it again and shut it again.

“What’s so hard? Just say yes.”

She jerked her head, looking away from him. He watched her shoulders move up and down as she took several breaths. Was she trying to make a decision? Or was she trying to figure out how to say no? They hadn’t exactly gotten along very well.

At least not until now.

Chapter 5

A couple days later, Grant made sure he got to the office early. Keri would arrive at 8:00 for her first day on the job. He had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, he’d found himself thinking about her way more than he should. Even under normal circumstances. But something was still bugging her. Something about
him
. He still didn’t have a clue why she seemed to constantly bristle whenever they interacted.

Except for that night at the lighthouse.

A smile warmed his face as he remembered. The warmth of her tears against his skin. The scent of lavender in her hair, its silkiness soft against his hand as he’d gently stroked those curls as he tried to calm her.

“Knock it off, Dawson,” he said aloud to himself. He made a fresh pot of coffee and tried to gather his thoughts as it brewed.

On the other hand, she’s hurting. And she really does need a job.

Grant had called the sheriff on his way to the office.

“Arson,” Bud Tomlinson had said. “There was enough kerosene out there to burn the whole town. Which accounts for how fast it went up.”

“Have you talked to Tyler yet?” Grant had asked.

“Yeah, he was here when I got the call from the insurance folks. The investigation is still ongoing, but their initial findings left no doubt about the cause of the fire.”

He poured himself a steaming cup of coffee and headed back to his desk, trying once again to come up with a game plan. He wanted to help her out. He just wished his intentions were solely from a working point of view.

He heard the back door open. “Back here!” he called.

Keri appeared at his door, her expression stoic. She looked around like she was observing something utterly and completely disgusting.

Well, so much for a good start.

“Good morning. How are you?”

Sad eyes made their way back to him. “Fine. I had no idea this was such a tiny office. It looks bigger from the outside.”

And so much for trying to make a good impression.

“Well, for now it’s all the room we need. Some day, who knows, maybe we’ll grow into—”

“The L.A. Times? Somehow I doubt that.”

He bit his tongue. “Which is fine. Sometimes smaller is better.”

She made no attempt to hide the rolling of her eyes.

“Have a seat, Keri. Would you like some coffee?”

She took a seat. “No thanks.”

He sat back down, tenting his fingers, elbows planted on his desk. “Well, then, first I’d like to talk about the general operation around here, then I’ll show you around—”

“That should take, what—a minute? Two?”

He leveled his gaze at her, opting not to respond. When the silence grew uncomfortable, he continued, filling her in on the day-to-day routine, the weekly schedule with a Friday morning release, and an overview of tasks he’d like her to handle.

“I’m not five, you know. I was on staff for the WSN, the—”

“The Washington Square News. NYU’s campus paper. I’m familiar with it. Quite a prestigious college paper.”

“Then you know I have plenty of experience working for a major newspaper. At least, compared to this.”

It was the dismissive wave of her hand as she’d said it that set his teeth on edge. “Okay, fine. You’re a veteran reporter. I get it. I’m sure you know way more than I ever will. But this is a different beast. Yes, it’s smaller. But it’s MINE. And I’d like at least of modicum of respect if you’re going to work here. Unless it’s beneath you to waste your precious time.”

She held up her hands, closing her eyes. “Fine. I’ll keep my comments to myself. Let’s just get it on with it.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

They stared at each other, unblinking, the tension crackling through the space between them.

Keri fought the urge to bolt. This was ridiculous. If he hadn’t offered such a ridiculously generous salary—which she jumped at, eager to fill her collegiate coffers and get back to school—she would never have stepped foot in this office. It wasn’t really
that
bad. In fact, she found it rather quaint and appealing. But she couldn’t fight the brewing anger as she watched him sitting behind that old, beat-up excuse for a desk, knowing he should never have walked away from a prominent paper like the Times. It irked her. To the core.