Page 59 of Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge (Miss 1)

Adell nodded but held herself from providing the answers.

Laura's mind began to race. Memories from the past came hurdling back. Dexter despising the entire shelter project, Dexter refusing to contribute a charitable donation, and Dexter spurning any participation in the fundraisers. There had to be a mistake. No possible way he had anything to do with this.

“No, I can't believe that. What possible reason could he have? He's always hated the shelter. He believes I am throwing my money away and still believes . . .”

Her voice trailed off as her words registered in her brain. Why was Dexter so angry she was re-opening the shelter? If he truly did not care as much as he claimed, he would leave her to destroy her life as much as she pleased. But he had been furious, downright hateful, as if her actions affected him personally.

She lifted her eyes and stared blankly at Adell. Without responding, she simply looked back, grinning ridiculously, and nodded. Then turning to a utility cupboard, removed a broom and dustpan.

“We heard something smash.” Harris came into the room followed by his wife. “Is everything okay?”

“What the hell happened in here?” The man of her troubled thoughts came bursting through the kitchen entrance behind his brother and sister-in-law.

On their own accord, Laura's eyes raised to his face and watched the anger dance across his handsome features.

“Everything's okay.” Adell reassured her sons. “We just had a small accident.”

Dexter frowned as he observed Laura kneeling among the broken glass. In two large strides he reached her side and pulled her to her feet. “What's the matter with you?”

She couldn't speak; all she was capable of doing was stare him dumbfounded in the face. Dexter frowned harder.

“Nothing, she's just had bit of a shock.” His mother informed him as she began to sweep around their feet.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

She nodded, not sure why.

He reached for her hands and lifted them for inspection. In finding no injury, he raised puzzled eyes to her face again. “There's nothing wrong with you.”

Again, she stupidly nodded.

Exasperated, he dropped her hands. “Make up your mind.”

“Leave her alone, Dexter.” Harris unexpectedly piped up. “Can't you ever throw someone a little compassion?”

Ignoring his brother, he asked Adell, “How did it happen?”

She simply gave a shrug. “Oh, you know how mishaps happen. Laura just being the Laura we all know and love.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Speak for yourself, mother. Laura's capacity to draw misfortune wherever she goes, believe me, is what I least love about her.”

Laura gasped and felt her legs go l

ifeless. An electric jolt pierced her heart and ricochet along every nerve draining the blood from her body. Nobody seemed to notice her apparent discomfort, especially Dexter who appeared oblivious to his own slip of words while he continued talking in a monotone manner.

“If you've got this mess in here under control I suppose I should go out and reassure everyone everything’s okay in here.”

“Thank you Dexter.” His mother grinned in the most ridiculous fashion.

He gave her a dubious frown before turning his attention to Laura momentarily. Her face had gone deathly white and she appeared to be shaking slightly. The urge to go over and comfort had him turning angrily on his heel. Damn woman, the sooner he got her out of his life the better. So why couldn't he bring himself to do just that?

Laura watched as he exited the room, followed by Harris and shortly Lydia who stayed back long enough to make sure her help wasn't needed.

After they all left, she raised a hopeful face toward the woman holding the broom.

“Looks like there's reason after all.” Was all Adell offered.

But it was enough. A burst of hopeful promises overcame her for the first time in a long time. She actually had concrete encouragement. He had said it. He actually said the words whether consciously or not. He used his words moderately and with stringent control. Dexter O'Reilly was a man of his word.

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