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A Plot Twist for the Grump

Page 17

by S.L. Sterling

“Of course, Mr. Stone.”

Mr. Stone, that stung. She hadn’t called me that since the third day she’d been here, and the sound of it was like a slamming door, but I was the one who had pushed it closed.

She didn’t wait for me to say anything else, instead, she turned and walked out, leaving me in the silence of my office.

I stayed in my office until after dinner. Sophie had already eaten by the time I emerged from my office and was getting ready for bed. Ember had left a plate of dinner for me on the counter, along with a note. I took the plate and note over to the table and sat down, taking my first bite of the roasted chicken and read what she’d written.

Everett,

Giving Sophie a bath, then putting her in bed for the night. I will retire to my room afterwards. No need to worry about seeing me work on my own things anymore in shared spaces, I will keep that in my room. Have a good night. Ember Wilde.

I looked around the quiet kitchen, listening to the silence of the house, wishing I’d said nothing. I should have learned by now to never pay attention to anything Richard or Margaret said. Now that I had mentioned something to Ember, she was giving me exactly what I was asking for. Distance and professionalism, but it was her absence that was unbearable.

Chapter Five

Ember

I had been up since five, drinking coffee and working away in the kitchen. Sophie came downstairs a little after seven, still in her dinosaur pajamas. She walked into the kitchen, rubbed her eyes, and looked around in amazement. The entire kitchen looked like a Williams Sonoma had collided with a fall display in a home decor store.

Dried fall-colored leaves and berries, along with tiny gourds strung on twine, lined the top of every kitchen cabinet. Warm fairy lights traced the window over the sink, casting a golden glow against the still-dark October morning. I had found a box of vintage glass votive holders in the hall closet and placed three along the pendant lights above the island. Each one of them caught the light and threw tiny amber reflections across the granite countertop.

Sophie rubbed her eyes again, and then looked up at me.

“Ember! It’s soooooo pretty.”

“You think?” I questioned and smiled at the look of surprise on her face.

She shook her head hard enough that her messy braid bounced.

“Mom used to put lights in the kitchen,” she whispered. “Dad took them all down right after she went to heaven and wouldn’t let me put them back up.”

My stomach dropped at the sudden look of sadness on her face. I wondered how she remembered so much at such a young age.

“Well, Soph, they are back now,” I said, moving over toward her.

Sophie looked around again, taking it all in before she looked up at me and smiled. Seeing that smile on her face was worth every single minute of sleep I’d lost to get most of this done.

I turned around and quickly finished up what I was doing, and then turned around to get Sophie some juice out of the fridge when I noticed Everett standing in the entryway, staring at me. I took in the charcoal dress pants and black sweater he wore, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was still damp as he looked around the kitchen. I watched his eyes track the garland, then the lights and the votive’s. He looked up at the bittersweet vine I hung in the entryway to the kitchen, directly above his head. I’d debated hanging that one while I lay awake in bed this morning. Then I decided I was going to go all in, I couldn’t be a coward.

“Good morning,” I sang, moving to the fridge as my bracelets clinked. “Coffee is ready,” I watched his eyes move down to the black sweater I was wearing with a screen-printed cat riding on a broomstick.

He stared at me, then looked up at the bittersweet vine, his eyes falling back to mine. I couldn’t tell if he was going to yell or start his day. Then he cleared his throat.

“I see you’ve been quite busy this morning,” he said, his voice sharp, as he walked over to the coffeemaker.

I saw him frown as he picked up one of the jack-o’-lantern mugs from the mug holder. I’d picked them up at the discount store. He exhaled and poured himself a cup of coffee. I tried hard not to notice the way his forearm flexed as he held the mug in his hand. He said nothing else, but as he walked out of the kitchen, he looked up at the doorframe to the bittersweet vine I’d hung and turned to me, giving me a cold, angry stare.

Smiling, I wiggled my fingers at him in a wave, causing him to take off toward his office without another word. I was probably pushing my luck, but I didn’t care. These small things made Sophie happy, and that was the reason I was here.

By mid-morning, we were deep into arts and crafts. Sophie and I had moved on to the trick or treat bags I’d picked up when I’d gone out for groceries yesterday. They were plain orange, nothing fancy, but something we could decorate. Sophie sat at the kitchen island decorating hers with dinosaur stickers and close to half a bottle of glitter glue.

“Ember? Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“I want to get Dad a Halloween present. A real one. I saved my allowance. I have forty-five dollars and thirty-two cents.”

“Wow, Soph, that is a lot of saving.”