Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge (2 page)

Their eyes locked and held across the room of
sixty or more faces. The noise of the party dimmed to a murmur. The
only hushed sound recognizable was her own hollow breathing. Time
seemed to slip away as she sat there staring at a complete stranger
who held her gaze completely captive. His dark features bore no
hint of his thoughts. It struck Laura that it was an unusual
expression, one she had never seen before. Almost lifeless, and
without human depth.

Dexter O'Reilly broke the trance at last by
jerking his dark head in the opposite direction and moving his lean
form to follow. She blinked at the sudden laceration to their
locked gaze, yet felt a shudder of relief. She watched him walk
away only long enough to see him greet his mother. The woman smiled
up at her son. He had none in return.

Laura turned back to the group around the
table who were full of excited static about this latest arrival.
Not wanting to be part of the gossip any longer, she excused
herself while she went and retrieved a drink at the bar. Threading
her way through the gathering of guests, she happened to notice
Lydia and Harris O'Reilly talking to Norton Cameron. Their faces
were solemn, no longer smiling and cheerful. Laura couldn't help
but blame the grim newcomer for their sudden state of distress.

She ordered a ginger ale with rye, then began
to retrace her steps, dawdling as she went, in no rush to rejoin
David and his group of friends. Stepping around a very large man
too intent in his conversation with a slightly smaller man to
realize he blocked her way, Laura stepped right into someone’s path
coming up behind her. The collision would have knocked her over had
a set of hands not come up and steadied her. She glanced over her
shoulder to realize the hands belonged to Dexter O’Reilly. Once
again, their eyes locked.

Something fluttered beneath her breast then
unexpectedly began to bloom, causing a warmth to spread all over
Laura. At closer proximity, she noticed the smooth shave of his
face, the pronounced cleft between his nose and lips, and tiny
little creases at the corner of his eyes. Which at the moment were
beginning to deepen at her thorough examination.

Adell Cameron's voice startled her out of her
stupor. “Well, hello again.”

At the sound of his mother’s voice, Dexter
O'Reilly immediately dropped his hands as if he suddenly just
realized he was still touching her. The moment he did, Laura felt a
cold rush of withdrawal.

Pulling her muddled self together, she
composed herself and turned to the older woman with a friendly
smile, all the while extraordinarily conscious of the man standing
beside his mother watching her. Not for the life of her would she
meet looks with him again. It had left her feeling utterly
unsettled. “Hello Mrs. Cameron.”

“Adell, please.” Her hostess spoke with poise
but with a lively edge to her voice. When she smiled her entire
face lit up. “You’re David’s wife, aren’t you?”

“No, actually we’re just friends.”

“Oh, well then it must be awfully serious for
you to take time away from your own family on Christmas Eve to join
him here with us tonight.”

A temporary shadow crossed her pale features.
“I don’t have any family. My father passed away earlier this
year.”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” The tall but
slender woman reached out and touched her arm.

Unconsciously, Laura’s eyes strayed to the
man standing pompously next to his mother. She hated when the
subject of her father’s death was brought up. It inevitably always
drew sympathy. She knew perfectly well that it was part of human
nature. Anything less would be considered heartless. Still, Laura
hated their pity.

However, Dexter’s face bore no emotion or
compassion. He simply stared blankly back at her. A grisly feeling
of apprehension shot through her from the somber depths of his dark
eyes. An unsuspecting chill swept over her body and had her
automatically reaching up and rubbing goose-bumps that had suddenly
appeared on her arms. Then, before she could decipher his
expression further, it was gone and he was looking away.

Adell’s voice drew her attention back. “This
must be very difficult for you.”

Laura smiled naturally for the first time
that evening. “I’m managing, thank you. But the festive atmosphere
of your party is certainly helping. You did a wonderful job.”

“Christmas is my favorite time of year. I
always like to go all out. At least my son teases me I do.”

Laura felt obligated to look at him once
more, however, he continued to remain detached. As if finding
anything more interesting at that moment than the two woman before
him. However, in the split second that she allowed her gaze to
drift to him, she knew he was finding little else in the hall of
partygoers of interest. She knew instantly he wished to be anywhere
but there.

Adell noticed her glance shift to Dexter and
quickly corrected, “I was referring to Harris, actually.” Then
remembering her manners, she said, “I apologize. This is my
son—”

“Mother I don't have time for this.” He spoke
for the first time. His voice matched his appearance, cold and
detached.

“Nonsense.” She brushed him off, giving Laura
a small apologetic smile before continuing. “This is my oldest son,
Dexter. Dexter, this is Laura Witherow.”

She had no alternative but to look up at him
once again. He did not so much as glance at her, not even the
smallest nod of greeting. Admittedly feeling snubbed, Laura quickly
looked away feeling uncomfortable. It was apparent that Adell’s son
not only found little of interest in Laura, but found her wanting
as well. Unconsciously, she straightened her spine.

“Laura is with David Farley. She's not
actually one of our employees.” Adell was still cheerful as she
continued the introduction. “What is it you do, Laura?”

Abashed, she quietly responded, “Nothing at
the moment.”

That wiped the smile off Adell's face
momentarily, and drew her son's dark gaze back to Laura's flushed
face. Naturally, she glanced back before she could catch herself.
He instantly looked away. Taken aback, she forced herself to
concentrate on what his mother was saying at present.

“Then what was it you did before?” Seemingly,
unperturbed by Laura's admission.

“I have a degree in Psychology.”

“How interesting. Do you plan on following
that career?”

“I-I'm not sure yet.” The truth being, since
her father's death, she had been in a kind of limbo; not sure where
her future lay and honestly where she wanted to see it go. She just
needed more time to decide. “My father left me enough money from
his life insurance to allow me to live comfortly for the time
being.”

“Having a psychology degree must help the
process of healing after your father’s death?”

Adell’s question wasn’t uncommon. Most people
assumed that because she studied the subject in school, she was
equipped to deal with the loss. The truth was, there was no amount
of preparation for a tragedy such as the death of a loved one, and
in Laura’s particular case, the loss of her last family member,
leaving her entirely alone.

“It's one thing to study it in school,
another to actually experience it.” She was unable to catch the
revealing crack at the end of her voice.

On their own accord, her eyes shifted to the
face of Adell’s son. His expression had altered slightly, however
it was enough to catch Laura’s attention. He stared down at her in
his usual dark manner, though now there was sincerity to the depth
of his astute gaze, catching Laura unaware. Then in a staggering
split second, a powerful awareness surged between them, and nearly
knocked her off her feet. It was if they shared a very intense, if
not brief, sense of raw grief. The feeling left her acutely uneasy.
The loss of her parent was a personal and painful experience. One,
she was certain, nobody could fully understand.

Then, just as sudden, the moment was gone and
he was pulling his mother aside, leaving Laura to wonder if the
moment actually passed between them. “Excuse us.”

Adell appeared horrified by her son’s rude
behavior, if not overly surprised. She allowed him to lead her
away, causing Laura to feel utterly foolish. An unwanted headache
began to throb in her temple and she wanted nothing more than to be
alone. Funny, not more than two hours before, the thought of it
appalled her.

Glancing at David's table where she evidently
wasn't being missed, she put her drink down on the nearest table
and made her exit. Quickly, she fled from the lodge, snatching up
her coat from the cloakroom before she left. Outside, the snow
began to fall silently again. The Sprucewood Lodge was a popular
ski resort located deep in the woods of the Muskoka district.
Winter hit early and heavy in this northern region of Ontario.
Already the thicket surrounding the city of Bracebridge, where
Laura lived some twenty kilometers west, was well covered in a
thick layer of snow.

The gravel road leading out of the lodge was
completely covered in a sheet of fresh snow when Laura pulled her
vehicle out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Her
windshield wipers swished back and forth attempting to clear her
vision. Ruefully, she discovered the route back down to town wasn't
as easy as it had been earlier when she followed David's directions
up to the lodge.

Coming across a fork in the road, she brought
her car to a halt. No signs pointed out directions. Towns were few
and far between, wildlife outnumbered civilization. Not to mention
somewhere out in the dark night ran the deadly chasm of Hungry
Hollow, a corroded fifty-foot drop carved out of the wilderness
along the Muskoka River. During the summer months it was a popular
tourist attraction with its Suicide Point, a breathtaking view of
the gorge and its magnificent waterfalls. But in winter, a death
trap just waiting to happen.

Laura bit her lip and wondered if she should
turn back and wait for David after all. A quick reminder of his
so-called friends had her taking a chance and turning her vehicle
left down the dark road.

The night was very black without the aid of
the moon's glow. The only cast of light came from the car's
headlight. With the snow swirling fast toward her tiny vehicle, it
reminded Laura of a glass snowball she had as a child. Only now,
she was placed in the core of the ball rather than on the
outside.

She had driven only a few kilometers when,
suddenly, the wheels from under her car had a mind of their own.
Pulling the steering column as hard as she could all the way to the
right, the vehicle however, swerved to the left. The next thing
Laura knew, her car was airborne. Fear gripped her throat at the
realization that she had, indeed, just driven off Suicide
Point.

Trees and bush came up fast to meet her
windshield as she felt herself dropping. Throwing her arms over her
face, she closed her eyes and awaited death. A surprising calm
settled over her.

* * *

Dexter O'Reilly wanted nothing more than to
be out of this hall of partygoers. He hadn't even wanted to come in
the first place. But his mother's grating persistence eventually
irked him enough to agree with a short visit. He thought about the
unfinished papers waiting for him back on his desk at the office.
Impatiently, he glanced at his watch and wondered if he put in a
sufficient length of appearance.

Swallowing the last of his drink, he turned
on his heel and strode out of the hall. He was in the cloakroom
slipping on his tweed overcoat, when his mother exited the noisy
doors from the banquet.

“You're not leaving so soon, Dexter?” She
frowned heavily at him. “You didn't get anything to eat—”

“I'll get something on the way to the
office.” He cut her short.

“But the dancing hasn't even begun yet—”

“I don't like to dance.” He finished
buttoning his coat then began to slide his hands into a pair of
warm leather gloves.

Adell Cameron's eyes narrowed in concern.
“You used to.”

Dexter paused, took note of the disquiet
expression on her face, and sighed heavily. “I have a lot of work
to do. Goodnight mother.”

She followed him to the exit. “Will you be
coming over tomorrow for turkey dinner?”

Again he sighed. She certainly made things
difficult for him. “I don't think so. I don't like turkey.”

“I can make ham.” She smiled, encouraged, but
it soon disappeared as he shook his head.

“As I said, I have a lot of work to do.” He
stopped at the door and looked down at his mother. A fleeting spurt
of emotion softened his heart at her expression. Quickly he
smothered it, before dropping a light kiss on her cheek and making
a hasty exit.

Adell watched her son go. Her usually smiling
aplomb face bore the sadness that weighed her heart. It had been
fourteen years, fourteen years since she lost her jovial and loving
son to this stranger now occupying his body.

“Adell?” Norton Cameron came up behind her
and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

She forced herself to smile, turning away
from the exit doors. “Let's get back to that party of ours, shall
we?”

* * *

Dex's black Volvo easily maneuvered the
freshly fallen snow now covering the dark country roads. He turned
out of the parking lot and as he did, he noticed the imprint of
tire tracks. Someone had left the party earlier than him, leaving
him a slightly plowed path. Turning his attention to the CD player
in his car, he slid a popular disc into the drive then sat back to
listen to the music.

Eyes back on the silent road, he eventually
reached the fork in the highway where he would have turned right.
However, frowning, he slowed the Volvo until it came to a halt. The
other vehicle, the one which owned the tracks he had been
following, had taken the road to the left.