“So, where do you get all your recipes?” she asked, as she leaned against the counter.
“Well, my mom gave me her old Better Homes and Gardens cookbook, and I started there. Then I began looking for recipes online, mostly allrecipes.com. Finally, I discovered Pinterest,” he added slyly.
Destiny chuckled to herself. “Pinterest?”
“Yeah. Who knew? Now I’m making eggs Benedict and Belgian waffles while my mom is still cutting recipes from the backs of boxes and the can wrappers.”
Destiny stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, as she slowly perused the room. Bill glanced at her occasionally as she was familiarizing herself with her surroundings. “Did your mom cook?” he asked.
Destiny smiled sadly. “Yeah. She was a pretty good cook.” Her hand delicately traced the restored wood on the original cabinets. “But my dad was better. He was the barbecue king in our neighborhood. He would spend hours concocting all kinds of barbecue sauce recipes and matching them perfectly with the right meats.”
“Yeah? My dad did that, too. ‘If it can be killed, it can be grilled’ was his motto.”
Destiny chuckled, remembering. “And he had to use a particular wood when he cooked.”
“Mine, too!” Bill exclaimed as he sliced the perfectly seasoned log of cinnamon, sugar, and dough. “I remember this one time when my dad caught his pit on fire at a cook-off. And not just the pit, but the ribs, the wood that was stored underneath it and everything within five feet of it. He went into our motorhome for just a few minutes, came back out and the whole thing was on fire.” Bill chuckled, placing the rolls in a pan carefully, leaving equal spacing between each piece. “Which included the pit of the guy a few feet away. Who was pretty peeved, since he had his heart set on the prize money.” He shook his head, placing the pan close to the oven. “I think he was trying some new-fangled lighting fluid.” He looked at her. “So, what do you say?”
Destiny looked at him, confused.
“About staying here?”
Destiny looked down at her hands as they toyed with a placemat on the table. “I don’t know,” she answered faintly.
Sydney stopped in the doorway. “You’re not staying?”
“I didn’t say that Sweetie,” Destiny clarified. “I have a lot of decisions to make over the next few days, one of them being where I’m going to land permanently.”
Sydney ran up to her and grabbed her arm. “Please!” she begged. “Stay with us.”
Bill turned to Destiny expectantly, suddenly wanting to beg her himself. He could see the pain in her eyes. She was hurt and confused and putting up a good front. Bill looked down at his daughter, who was now tugging on Destiny’s hand. “Sweetie, why don’t you help make the salad for dinner? And then you were going to make some more cookies for our guests. They’ll be arriving in the next couple of hours. You know the routine,” he added, his eyes firmly set on hers.
Sydney dropped her shoulders. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Now, salad first, then cookies, then book report.”
“Dad, it’s not due until Friday!”
He held his eyes on hers.
Her face fell to match her stooped shoulders, in utter defeat. “Yes, sir,” she said as she dragged across the kitchen, to get the ingredients she needed to finish the tasks he’d assigned to her.
Bill looked to Destiny and made an anxious face, causing her to grin.
“I’ll tell you what,” she began. “I have a doctor’s appointment in about an hour, and when I get back, I’ll decide. Deal?”
“Deal,” Sydney replied, unconvinced. “Daddy, when is Deborah coming home?”
He looked at his watch. “She should be here anytime.” As if on cue, the back door flew open, and Deborah breezed through it.
“Greetings, family!” she exclaimed, looking at Sydney and Bill.
“Deborah!” Sydney squealed, running into her arms. She kissed and hugged her before returning to making the salad for dinner.
Deborah walked up to Bill and hugged him. Then she kissed him on the cheek, her arm still around him. Bill turned immediately to Destiny. “Deborah, I’d like you to meet Destiny. It’s possible she’s going to be staying with us awhile.”
“Destiny,” Deborah said, excitedly, releasing Bill to shake her hand. “It’s good to meet you.”
Destiny felt flush, fidgeting awkwardly, already feeling her mood darkening. She looked at Deborah and then Bill, then back to Deborah. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, forcing a smile. “Look,” she began, suddenly looking down. “I’m going to go.” She pointed toward the other room. “I have that thing that I have to do.” Destiny edged her way from the room. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she hurried to the room where Bill had placed her luggage.
Destiny looked at her watch. There was no time to load everything now. She’d worry about that when she got back. How could she possibly stay here now? Everything that Sydney had said about Deborah came back to her, and suddenly she felt so foolish. And angry. Destiny rubbed her brow with her fingers. Not only was she going to be late, but now she was getting a headache. She grabbed her keys and her purse and rushed out the front door, suddenly wanting just to disappear.
Chapter 34
Since Destiny had begun therapy, it had been difficult to get her to talk much at all. But suddenly, it was though she had been fed a truth serum. And a triple shot of espresso. She paced while chattering away, almost from the moment she arrived. And yet, Dr. Villarreal, who had rescheduled a week’s worth of appointments to fit Destiny in today, had only touched briefly on the traumatic incident from the night before. No, she was ranting about the owner of a bed and breakfast, who had kissed her, but was involved with someone else. It was all so muddled. The doctor finally had to make Destiny sit and explain everything from the beginning so that she could understand what the distraught woman was talking about.
When Destiny had finally unburdened herself, she sat perfectly still and stared at her psychiatrist, who merely smiled back at her. “How can you smile, Carolyn? Didn’t you hear what I said?”
Dr. Villarreal nodded slowly. “Yes, dear. Did you hear what you said?”
Destiny furrowed her brow and tilted her head, confused.
She drew in a deep breath, leaned back and crossed her legs, rolling the pen between her fingers. “You spent the night in the hospital, and yet you have spent the majority of our session talking about Bill and his daughter, Cyndi, is it?”
“Sydney,” she corrected her. Destiny sat quietly, staring ahead, realizing that she hadn’t talked much about last night, except that Bill had come to see her, and how good it had made her feel. She drew in a deep breath. How was it possible that just seeing him, had helped her to forget about Winston if only for a day? And now, knowing he had a lover under the same roof made her so angry that she wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Was it possible that she was falling for him? She never meant to. She never intended to. And yet… how could she have misunderstood that kiss? The way he looked at her? In the end, had he merely made a fool of her?
Dr. Villarreal clicked her pen annoyingly as she spoke. “Destiny, you’ve come a long way. You’re experiencing emotions brought on by post traumatic stress. But be careful that you don’t transfer all of your anger and frustration at Winston onto Bill. I think that could be very destructive, especially if things aren’t as they appear.”
Destiny was aghast. “Things are exactly as they appear.” She stood and shook her head. “And I’m going to go back there, give him a piece of my mind and then check into a hotel.” Destiny looked around for her purse. “Or maybe I’ll check into a spa for a week.” She slid into her jacket. “I can afford it. God knows I need it.”
“Destiny?”
She turned to her doctor, poised to receive her words of wisdom.
“Be careful,” she warned. “Don’t push away someone who has unexpectedly been there for you. If he’s able to bring out these types of emotions; if you ar
e that passionate about being angry with him, then there’s something else you need to deal with first, before you confront him about anything else.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“How you really feel about him.”
Destiny stared at her, then turned and walked out the door.
Dr. Villarreal looked down at her watch. “Well, that was a record,” she sighed to herself. Her first speed-therapy session, she thought, as she closed the door behind her last patient for the day.
Destiny contemplated not driving back to the Kemper House and just checking into a hotel, then sending for her things later. How could Lisa have put her into that situation? Surely she knew about Bill and Deborah. Or maybe she didn’t. Destiny hadn’t told her about the kiss. Too many things had transpired since then, and it simply hadn’t come up. She sat at the light, at a crossroads of whether to turn left and drive five blocks to the bed and breakfast or go five blocks the other direction and check into one of a dozen hotels downtown. Destiny glanced up at the light, and the left turn arrow flashed above her.
“There ya go,” she said, taking it as a sign, turning left and heading for the Kemper House. She pulled into the long, wide driveway beside a dozen other cars. Great! She forgot there would be other guests. That would deter her plans. Only slightly.
When she walked in the back door, she could hear people talking in the library. So, she walked straight into the room where her belongings were, only her suitcases weren’t there. As she looked around, she opened the drawers, and sighed. Someone had unpacked her things. That’s just great! she thought sarcastically. Destiny turned suddenly to find Sydney standing directly in her path. She grabbed her chest.
“Sydney!” she exclaimed. “You startled me.”
“Sorry,” she grinned. “You’re just in time.” Sydney took her hand and began dragging her down the hallway.
Destiny didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t about to cause a scene in front of Sydney. Now she was regretting letting a left turn signal determine her fate for the evening.
Sydney led her into the kitchen and to a small dining table by the window. There were four places set with china, silver, crystal and a small ornate floral arrangement in the center of the table. Sydney walked to the refrigerator, taking out a salad and Greek dressing. As she set them on the table, Bill walked into the room, smiling as big as Sydney was.
“You’re back.”
Destiny nodded, no smile on her face.
Bill ignored her mood and walked to the oven where he took out several Corning dishes. As he set them down, he carefully described their meal, emphasizing key ingredients that made each dish special. There was parmesan encrusted chicken, seasoned green beans, and garlic mashed potatoes. He set them each on thick pads to protect the antique table from the heat, as he turned and pulled out a chair for her.
Destiny hesitated and drew in a deep breath before sitting. Bill sat beside her. Sydney sat opposite her. As she put her linen napkin onto her lap, she looked down. “Someone put my things away.”
“That would be Deborah. She’s quite industrious. She’d already done it before I told her you might not stay.”
“Now you have to stay,” Sydney explained.
Destiny slowly looked up at Sydney. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Sydney slumped in her chair.
Bill’s smile faded, as he put his napkin on his lap before motioning Sydney to do the same. “Well,” he sighed, “at least, we get to serve you a nice dinner before you leave.”
Destiny glanced over at Sydney and then pasted a small smile on her face. “It’s nice, thank you.”
Sydney reached for her father’s hand and then Destiny’s. Destiny hesitated a moment as she looked from daughter to father. Destiny felt her face flush and her heart beating faster in her chest again.
“Do you mind if we bless the food?”
Tentatively she reached and took Sydney’s hand and his. They bowed their heads, although she silently refused to. She watched them as her heart raced. When they finished, she quickly pulled her hands from theirs.
They ate in silence, only occasionally looking at each other. Destiny glanced at the extra place setting and felt herself getting angry again. “Deborah isn’t joining us?” she asked.
“I asked her to handle the guests so that we could enjoy dinner together,” he smiled. “She usually handles the guests’ nighttime requests.”
“Mmm,” she murmured as she chewed her food.
“She pretty much does whatever I ask her to do.” Bill smiled.
Destiny shook her head slightly, then pushed herself back from the table and dropped her napkin onto her barely-touched food. Suddenly she felt like she was going to be sick. “Look, this was all very nice, but I have to go.” Destiny looked at them. “Please excuse me,” she added, as she rose and walked hurriedly from the room.
Bill looked at his daughter, who shrugged, and he, too, placed his napkin on his plate. “Finish your dinner and clear the table,” he instructed, ensuring Sydney would be busy for a while. Then he went to find Destiny.
Destiny walked through the small throng of people that mingled in the hallway and sundeck, looking down and smiling at no one as she excused herself over and over. She rushed into Bill’s room and immediately started pulling her clothes out of the chest of drawers. She felt the hurt returning, her eyes brimming with tears. Bill arrived moments later to find her unpacking the drawers that Deborah had just filled.
“Look, I’m really sorry if we were too pushy. We just wanted you to feel at home,” he said as she stood with her back to him.
Destiny scoffed, turning to confront him as quietly as she could with people just yards away. “Really? How could I feel at home, when she’s just in the other room?” She looked at him with disdain in her eyes. “You’re just like all the rest. I don’t know why I ever trusted you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Bill shook his head. “Whoa! Did I miss something? What in the world are you talking about?”
“Where are my suitcases?” she demanded.
“Destiny? If I did something to offend you, I’m sorry.”
Destiny shook her head and gave him an exaggerated, sarcastic look. “Yeah, you did. And I just need to get out of here.”
“Destiny?” Sydney said, standing by her dad’s side.
Destiny turned away so that Sydney wouldn’t see her crying.
“Did you finish your dinner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dishes?”
“Not yet, but—.“
“Syd, please. Dishes. Then go to your room and work on your book report.”
“But, Daddy,” she moaned, as Destiny continued to unpack the drawers.
“Sydney Ellen Ireland, now!” he said, firmly but gently.
“Yes, sir,” she said, grumbling as she walked away.
Bill stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “So, you want to explain what I did to upset you?”
“No,” she began, then turned. “Yes. You embarrassed me by leading me on and then bringing me here, flaunting me in front of her,” she motioned with her arm.
“Her, who?” he asked, utterly confused. “Sydney?”
“No, not Sydney,” she replied, angrily wiping her tears. “Deborah.” She shook her head as she moved to the closet and found the suitcases she was seeking. “I don’t know what kind of family dynamic you have going on here, but I’m not interested.”
“What does Deborah have to do with anything?”
“She has everything to do with it. Your daughter already told me you and she weren’t working out. And you bring me in here while she’s still around?”
Bill looked at her, perplexed, but suddenly smiled. “Oh, you think… me and Deb?” He began to laugh. “No wonder.”
Destiny felt her face getting hotter. She pushed past him with the suitcase.
Bill took her arm as she passed and turned her to face him. “Deb and I aren’t an item. We were
never an item. She works for me. That’s all. She lives upstairs.”
Destiny stopped where she was like the breath had been knocked out of her. “But Sydney—” she began and stopped. “Then you and she aren’t…?” she continued.
Bill chuckled softly. “She needed a place to live and a job, and I desperately needed someone to help with guests. She’s not working out because she has a boyfriend now, and she’s been pretty much useless since he came into the picture.”
Destiny fell to the upholstered bench at the end of the bed and dropped her head into her hands. Dr. Villarreal had been right. And she had been so very, very wrong. She looked up apologetically. Bill stopped chuckling and sat beside her on the bench.
“Look Destiny,” he exhaled. “I hope you’ll reconsider and stay. We hardly know each other, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping to get to know you better. But that’s not the main reason I would like you to stay. If you’re here, I know you’re safe.”
Destiny looked down at her hands. She was so ashamed. She wanted to crawl under a rock right at that moment.
“But I don’t want you to feel pressured to stay. I want you to stay because you want to. No pressure.” Bill held up his hand. “I Promise.” He smiled. “Except for Sydney, I can’t guarantee that she won’t pressure you. She’s persistent.”
A small smile grew on the side of her lips. “I have a feeling she gets that from her father.”
Bill nudged her with his shoulder. “I’d like to think it’s one of my finer qualities.”
“That and forgiveness,” Destiny added meekly.
“Nothing to forgive.” Bill stood and faced her.
Destiny looked up at him. He held out his hand for her to take. “C’mon.” Bill motioned with his head. “There’s an eight-year-old in there that could probably use a hug right now.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a thirty-year-old in here that needs a hug, too.”
Bill pulled her to him. “Thought you’d never ask.” Bill brushed back her straight dark hair from her face with both hands. Her brown eyes were mesmerizing. At that moment, he wanted so badly to kiss her. So he lowered her head and kissed her forehead before pulling her against him.
Destiny by chance: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel Page 19
