Opal's Wish: Book Four of The Crystal Warriors Series (18 page)

Opal blinked. And swallowed the lump in her throat. What a sweetheart he was to make such a kind offer. “Th-th-th—”

He held up a hand. “There is no need to thank me. We are great friends, Sera and I. It is hardly an imposition to spend time with her.” And with that, he waggled his fingers and winked at something behind her and strode off.

Opal shut and locked the door, and turned to find Sera, dressed in her favorite pink pajamas, standing behind her. “I know you don’t like working late, Mommy,” Sera said, “’coz you get really worried about me and stuff. And it makes you really tired, too. But I wouldn’t mind if Mr. Stone looked after me sometimes. He’s nice.”

An ache in Opal’s chest—one that had been there for so long she’d accepted it as normal—abruptly eased. She and Sera had been on their own for so long that she’d forgotten what it was like to have someone to call on when things went pear-shaped. She scooped Sera up and gave her sloppy smooches on both cheeks until Sera squealed with laughter and squirmed from her arms.

“Can I listen to my music tonight?” Sera asked. “I read three whole chapters of my book while I was in the bath and I don’t feel like reading anymore.”

Opal nodded, and followed her daughter as she skipped back up the stairs and into her bedroom.

Sera selected a song and pressed Play on her portable CD player. She danced around the room a couple of times to the chorus of the catchy, upbeat song, and then climbed onto her bed. “What’s skinny-dipping, Mommy?”

Opal bit her lip. Could be worse. Luckily the more adult-oriented lyrics tended to go right over Sera’s head. Opal described skinny dipping as matter-of-factly as she could, ending with why it wasn’t something you should do very often—what with the high potential that you’d be discovered, or someone might steal your clothing as a prank. Sera alternated between giggling and wondering aloud why people didn’t go swimming in their underwear if they’d forgotten their swimsuits.

Opal hid a smile. Why, indeed. “T-T-Two more s-s-songs and then s-s-sleep,” she said.

Sera gave her puppy-dog eyes. “Three?”

“Okay.”

As Opal switched out the main light, she glanced back in time to glimpse Sera extracting an item from beneath her pillow. When she rolled onto her back and rested her hands atop the cover there was something clutched in each fist.

Opal squinted, trying to make out what they were. And then it dawned on her. The crystal Peter had given her. But it had broken in half. When had that happened?

Something tickled Opal’s brain—a memory. Or perhaps a revelation. It vanished before she could grasp hold of it and examine the truth it held.

“’Night, Mommy,” Sera called.

“Goodnight.” Opal wandered into her bedroom and flopped full length on the bed, massaging her temples. She should get up. She had heaps to do. But she couldn’t bring herself to move.

What the hell. For once she’d treat herself to an early night. She closed her eyes.

Sleep dragged her down. Her mind whirled with images of a park… a big man pushing a child on a swing, laughing when the child begged him to push her higher and higher… a young woman resting nearby on a picnic blanket, watching the fun….

And then the dreamscape changed.
She
was the young woman, content to sit and watch the fun because she was too big and clumsy now to join Sera and the man. Danbur.

His gaze caught hers and bathed her in a sense of “rightness” so profound that she had to say it. Out loud. And she didn’t care who heard. “I love you,” she said.

He smiled and didn’t look away until Sera demanded his attention again.

Her dreamy contentment shattered on a sharp stab of disappointment. Danbur frequently told
Sera
he loved her, but he’d not once said those three little words to his wife.

Her palm smoothed across her belly. She grunted softly as she was rewarded by a kick from her unborn child. It would be all right. This baby would change everything, fix everything. It had to. Otherwise she didn’t know how she would bear it.

Sometime during the night Opal woke, shivering, deeply unsettled for no reason she could pin down. She shucked her clothes, crawled into an old t-shirt and sleep shorts, and climbed beneath the covers.

God she was tired. So tired. Her eyelids drifted shut and all her muscles went lax, but this time sleep was a long while coming.

~~~

Weekdays were never what Opal would call fun but Friday mornings were in a class of their own. A class that, frankly, sucked. She kicked a stone and watched it skitter across the pavement as she mulled the possibility of dropping Sienna Mitchell as a client. This morning’s note informing Opal she needed to clean the oven because Sienna had “made a little bit of a mess last night” was the last straw.

The “little mess” had proven to be a mass of grease splatters and a blackened puddle of some substance that had been baked on over the course of weeks or months—probably dating back to shortly after the last time Opal had been asked to clean the heinously expensive, top of the line oven.

Hah.
Last night
my ass. The mess had been neglected far too long. It wasn’t going to take a simple spray of oven cleaner, and a wipe down after the cleaner had worked its magic. Some major elbow grease was in that oven’s future, and Opal would be damned if she’d provide that elbow grease gratis—especially if it meant letting down her Friday afternoon client on short notice. Cue a painfully polite note explaining that the oven was too big of a job to fit in to her scheduled three hours, but if Sienna could spray the oven with cleaner the evening prior to Opal’s next scheduled visit, Opal would prioritize the oven over her usual tasks. She’d underlined “usual tasks” in case Sienna didn’t get the hint. Doubtless the note would go down like a lead balloon but too bad. A girl could only take so much of being treated like crap.

Annie’s sporty red coupe was parked in the driveway of the North’s home. Looked like Annie had the afternoon off.

Normally having a client home while she cleaned made Opal tense and uncomfortable at best, and at worst, sick to the stomach. She had no issues with hard work, and cleaning houses for a living wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. But some clients felt compelled to follow her from room to room, and making polite small-talk with her employer was far more taxing than scrubbing floors. Granted, being handed a coffee while you were cleaning was a nice gesture, but not exactly practical. As for Sienna’s husband, who’d once invited Opal to “take five and join me for a coffee”, well, let’s just say the slow and sleazy head to toer accompanying that invitation had made Opal feel extremely sorry for his wife—even if Sienna was, to put it kindly, high maintenance.

Annie was a sweetheart—Sienna’s complete opposite. A bubbly young blonde a few years older than Opal, Annie had a sunny outlook on life that could have been annoying as hell, except she was so sweet and endearing you simply had to smile.

From their very first meeting, Annie hadn’t been the least bit bothered by Opal’s speech impediment. She’d fixed her gaze expectantly on Opal’s face, giving the impression whatever came out of Opal’s mouth was going to be worth the wait, and it didn’t matter how long it took to form those words.

Opal had met Annie’s husband, Conrad, for the first time when he’d stayed home to look after Annie during a nasty bout of stomach flu. She’d instantly warmed to him. Conrad was significantly older than his young wife but they adored each other. According to Annie, Conrad was a hot-shot attorney whose annual salary bordered on the obscene. And most people presumed she’d married him for his money, which had to hurt, Opal thought, but Annie hid it well. Despite Conrad’s reputed wealth, his lovely home was modest compared to most who ran in his circles. He was a down-to-earth man who loved his daughters to distraction—hence him getting on board Stella’s idea for the fashion show and making it happen.

Opal bit her lip, praying Stella had no complaints, and Annie hadn’t been made to regret asking Opal to fill the shoes of the model who’d backed out. Doubtless she’d find out very soon. She called out to let Annie know she’d arrived.

“Hi, Opal!” Annie stuck her head out from the kitchen and waved a hand in the direction of the living room. “Before I forget, I left a Vogue in the bedroom for you. Sera will
adore
the main spread—all the models are wearing pink dresses.”

“Thanks.” Annie frequently asked after Sera. Opal got the feeling she would love kids of her own, but Conrad had three adult daughters and wasn’t quite ready to dive back into fatherhood. Annie was working on him, though. And Opal suspected he wouldn’t be able to resist her for long.

“So. Anything to tell me?” Annie emerged completely from the kitchen and bounced on her toes, eagerness pouring from her in waves.

Opal did her best to hide her dismay at Annie’s food-spattered apron. It looked like it’d been dipped in chocolate sauce. Or gravy. At least, Opal hoped for Conrad’s sake it was chocolate sauce or gravy. And please God, the kitchen wouldn’t be too much of a disaster zone after Annie’s latest experiment.

Annie screwed her face into a wry smile. “Yeah, I know I’m not the tidiest person in the kitchen. So? How’d it go? I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the show—Stella was… Stella. And by the time she quit going on about everything you’d left.” She bounced some more. “C’mon, Opal. Dying, here!”

Opal decided to put Annie out of her misery. “O-O-Once I g-g-got over the st-st-stage fright it w-w-was l-l-loads of fun.”

“I knew it!” Annie fist-punched the air. “You looked fricking amazing, and you damn well owned that show—no lie. Conrad just about fell off his chair when he saw you saunter by in that cat-suit thingie of Stella’s. I had to tell him to close his mouth before he started drooling.”

Something taut inside of her relaxed. “C-C-Conrad was h-h-happy?”

Annie beamed at her. “Conrad was ecstatic. Stella, too. And no wonder, because you looked incredible. And since
I
suggested you fill in, and everything worked out great, I’m hoping she’ll quit being such a bitch. Or maybe not so much of a bitch would be okay. Because boy, that one really takes after her mother, and even Conrad admits his first wife is an epic bitch.”

Opal didn’t feel up to commiserating with Annie about Conrad’s ex—or his youngest daughter who, in her private opinion, needed a smack for the way she treated Annie—so she raised her eyebrows and hoped Annie would get the hint.

“Oh yeah,” Annie said. “I’m off work early.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “God, there I go again—stating the obvious. And please don’t come near the kitchen. It’s an utter disaster, and I’ll be hideously embarrassed if you see the mess I’ve made. I’ll clean up once I’m done.”

Opal raised her eyebrows as if to say, “Are you sure?” She’d encountered the aftermath of Annie’s cooking attempts before. It hadn’t been pretty.

“One of Conrad’s business associates is coming over tonight with his wife,” Annie hastened to explain. “Conrad said we should get the meal catered but I’m determined to cook everything from scratch. I thought this would be the perfect time to prove to him I’m not a complete incompetent in the kitchen.”

Yikes. This probably wasn’t the best idea Annie had ever come up with.

“I’ll be fine.” Annie sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Opal. “I’ve got the menu all planned to a tee. It’s going to be easy as pie. And Conrad’s going to be so proud of me.”

Opal crossed her fingers behind her back. “Of c-c-course he is. Y-Y-You’re g-g-gonna do g-g-great.” She mustered a smile meant to reassure Annie, and beat a hasty retreat upstairs.

She heard the odd loud bang and clatter while she cleaned, but nothing too alarming. Then, as she was stowing the vacuum cleaner in the cupboard under the stairs, Annie’s howl shattered the silence.

Opal slammed the cupboard door and sprinted for the kitchen. The first thing she registered was the horrendous mess. Pans and bowls and spilled ingredients littered the countertops. More bits of this and that sprinkled the floor. And Annie stood beside the stove, sucking her fingers.

Opal’s nostrils twitched. God, what was that awful smell? Her gaze drifted to the open oven door… and the blackened remains of whatever main course Annie had planned to serve her dinner guests. Beef? Chicken? It was impossible to tell.

Annie’s lower lip wobbled. A shudder rippled her body and then she burst into noisy tears.

Opal gingerly negotiated a puddle of brown goo on the floor. At a guess it was something chocolate… maybe. When she reached Annie she took her by the shoulders, steering her to the sink, where she gently removed Annie’s hand from her mouth and thrust it beneath a stream of cold water. Next, she headed back to the oven and turned it off.

A sigh eked from her lips as she regarded the ruined main course and made a decision. Sheesh. Could she be any more of a pushover?

She fished her mobile phone from her overalls pocket and looked up a number. “C-C-Can I p-p-please use your ph-ph-phone?” Even in the face of Annie’s tears Opal couldn’t help being conscious of the cost of making calls from her mobile.

Annie glanced over her shoulder. Tears tracked down her woebegone face as she nodded.

Opal grabbed the phone and dialed Peter’s number. He answered on the first ring, like he’d been hovering by the phone, waiting for her call.

“It’s Opal.” She was too preoccupied with Annie’s dilemma to feel pride that she’d gotten her name out without any preparation or breathing exercises. “M-M-May I ask a f-f-favor?”

“I would be happy to look after Sera until you get home,” he said. “May I ask what has delayed you? So I can reassure Sera, of course.”

Opal’s halting explanation was interrupted by an impassioned outburst from Annie to the tune of how she’d figured out what she’d done wrong with the oven fried chicken breasts, the dessert was probably going to turn out okay because she’d stuck it in the freezer, and her burned hand wasn’t too serious, so Opal didn’t need to stay because everything would be fine. And she
could
do this by herself and didn’t need help and she was
fine
! And then she negated the little speech by bursting into loud, noisy tears.