Page 10 of Loss Aversion

Did he fail her? Like he did Rachel?

Leaning on his elbows, he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, a mixture of regret and guilt warring inside of him.

If Errol was responsible for Angus’s and Mia’s accident, despite her taking marital vows with her sworn enemy, Lucas wasn’t so naïve to think Birdie was free from harm.

Mental or physical.

* * *

Birdie’s headjerked back at an unsuspecting slap that made her ears ring and the side of her face throb. The force of the blow shocked her, considering who’d delivered it.

Backing away, she raised a hand in supplication to the offender as she worked her jaw. “Okay, that one caught me by surprise,” she murmured. Turning to her friend, she tried once again. “Pearl, I love you. I’m here to help you. Not hurt you.”

Under the circumstances, she couldn’t blame her friend for lashing out. Pearl was frightened and disheveled and rightfully so. Her once beautiful long hair was now a short halo of white. The institution Errol had placed her in had shaved her head, claiming it was for hygiene purposes and part of their intake protocol.

Despite her efforts to cajole her into leaving, Pearl wasn’t having it. She didn’t believe her, and Birdie could understand why.

Without warning, Pearl caught a second breath and began to rail at her with her fists. This time not doing any real harm and almost losing her balance. Birdie reached out to bolster her.

“You’re a thief. You’re the one who’s been stealing from me.” She was talking nonsense and had been since Birdie arrived to pack her things and take her back to the luxury facility personally chosen for her by her long-lost lover, Marshall.

She needed to act fast as time was running out.

It had taken weeks to convince Errol to allow Pearl to return to the luxury assisted-living facility as opposed to the hellhole she was in.

Errol finally gave in, allowing her a few hours to complete the task. Then she had strict orders to return home for a family dinner.

What used to be her home, anyway. Which now belonged to Errol. Maybe even Flynn and Ariana. She wasn’t sure how they divvied up the spoils, other than they all lived together in the Cambridge house.

When she had first walked through the front entrance, she gave the expansive foyer a double-take. She could barely reconcile the home she and Marshall had raised Mia in with the one filled to the brim with the monstrosities before her. They had replaced the original soft contemporary furniture that she, Pearl, and Marshall had chosen over the years to the lavishly vulgar pieces from the Art Deco era of design Ariana preferred.

Every square inch of the home’s expansive walls was painted a high-gloss lacquer, in off shades of teal, gold, and yellow. The huge windows overlooking the pool area were now draped with curtains of dark malachite, incompatible against the rest of the high pigment colors. To make matters worse, the room was overdone with bold accents of gold: gold mirrors, pillows, furniture legs, and gold curtain rods. The pillows that weren’t gold were some sort of fake fur that spun Birdie into a sneezing fit when she ventured within five feet of them.

Her beautiful, bright, and serene home was now shadowed and heavy with over-the-top colors and offensive embellishments.

A stark difference, but equally disturbing, to the institutional environment where Errol had moved Pearl. The dismal walls were the color of the inside of every abandoned elementary school in the South. Putrid green.

She looked forward to returning her dear friend to Jeanette and the upscale dementia facility, where she planned to spend the majority of her time, as opposed to her newly bastardized home.

It had taken weeks of negotiations and pleas with Errol to return her dear friend to her rightful home, agreeing to a lavish wedding where she was forced to walk down the aisle between pews filled with all of the people she used to call friends, co-workers, and business partners.

All there to witness the spectacle firsthand.

In addition to one final capitulation that Birdie didn’t allow herself to think about, fearing she would start retching in the nearby plastic trash container.

Pearl appeared to be losing steam as she wobbled, allowing Birdie to touch her and help her regain her balance. “Pearl, I’m not here to steal from you. I’m here to take you back home. Remember Jeanette? She’s very worried about you and has been waiting for you so she can brush your hair and read to you.”

“Jeanette?”

An inkling of recollection whisked across Pearl’s face, and Birdie jumped on the moment of precious lucidity.

“Yes, Jeanette, who takes walks with you and sits with you next to the fountain in the back lawn. Remember the fountain? Jeanette is there waiting for you and misses you terribly.”

“I…like Jeanette,” Pearl said seeming to gather nips and tucks of memories. “Jeanette doesn’t steal from me.”

“No,” Birdie said, turning to the care team she had arranged through Jeanette to help with the transfer. Nodding, she indicated she was ready for another attempt to walk Pearl to the van, as opposed to the least preferred option of sedation.

Progress! But to her disappoint, Pearl came to an abrupt stop and turned to Birdie. “Will Marshall be there?”

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