The Temple of Indra’s Jewel: (7 page)

“Oh, I know. Everything’s fine. I just have to go into the hospital tomorrow so they can run some tests.”

“What? Tests? What’s going on?”

“Sophia, now don’t get all worked up. It’s no big deal. I just knew you were planning to call tomorrow, and I didn’t want you to worry when you didn’t get an answer.”

Right,
like
I’m
no
t
worried
now.

“Well, what are the tests for? Who’s taking you?”

“Well, actually, Greta’s in town.”

Alarm bells went off in my head. Greta Woods was Gigi’s daughter, my grandmother, or simply Greta, as she liked me to call her—a self-absorbed woman who moved to California after her first failed marriage to pursue a career in acting. Finding my mother, who was 4 years old at the time, a hindrance, she begged Gigi to take her, and of course she did. Greta never made it as an actress, but she landed herself a rich oil tycoon and moved to Texas, sending money and cards on our birthdays.

“They’re just double-checking something,” Gigi replied calmly.

This was probably the most involvement Greta’d had in her own mother’s life in ten years.

“Greta wouldn’t be in town for no reason. How serious is it?”

“You’re being silly, girl. It’s fine. They found a little lump, that’s all. At my age nothing grows quick, even tumours; don’t worry yourself. I’ll call you when it’s all over.”

“I got my passport. My flight leaves at noon tomorrow. Maybe I should come directly up to the Lake House.”

“Now, you don’t have to rush. I’m—”

“Gigi.” I cut her off. “Please, I need to see you. I need to talk to you about some things, and it sounds like there are some things you need to tell me as well.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

A
s I pulled up to the beautiful Muskoka cabin I’d called home since the age of sixteen, I spotted Gigi waiting patiently by the window. I barely had time to pull my suitcase from the car and climb the stairs before she tugged the side door open and pulled me into her arms, hugging me fiercely. She was shaking. I pulled back to look into her face.

“Gigi, don’t cry. You’re going to make me cry,” I said, too late. Tears welled and spilled onto my cheeks.

“I can’t help it. I just love you so much, and I can’t bear to lose you too, not like the rest of them.” I knew she was thinking of her family members, who always passed tragically, even my own mother.

“It’s like we’re cursed.”

My lips trembled as she cradled my face in her hands and brushed away my tears.

She let me go with one last squeeze. “Well, come on, girlie, get your stuff off and settle in. You want a drink? You hungry? I can heat up some pasta for you.”

“No, thanks, Gigi. I grabbed a pita on the way here. I’m really just super tired.”

“Me too. I’m hittin’ the hay myself soon as I finish up here.”

She had photos laid out all over the table.

“Are you making a scrapbook?” I reached out and picked up one of the photos of her and her sister.

“I figured it was high time I organized all this junk. Before I kick the bucket, you know.”

The comment brought unexpected emotions and reminded me of the tests she’d had done. Knowing Gigi and not wanting to push, I waited for her to broach the subject.

I handed her a photo of her sister, Zafira. “Where was this photo taken?”

“This was taken at the county fair in… hmm, when was that?” she asked herself, turning the picture over. “Ahhh, here it is… the year before my mother died. That’s Zafira. You know, you look and act so much like her sometimes it frightens me.”

This was something Gigi had said to me often, but she seemed to like to repeat it. Her past was plagued with tragedy. Her paternal grandparents died in a car accident around the same time her own mother died. I picked up a leather-bound diary and fingered the initials on the cover. E. B.

“What’s this, Gram?”

“That’s my father’s journal; I must have read it a thousand times. He recorded his journey over from the old country in it.”

“That’s strange. I’ve never seen it before,” I said, realizing she didn’t speak of her father all that openly.

“Why did you and your sister go into an orphanage anyway, if your father was alive, I mean?”

She let out a small gasp. She reached for it and started fiddling with the cover. “Papa was very distraught after Oma and Opa’s car accident. And then when Mama died, it was like he did too. He had to be hospitalized, and Zafira and I were sent to the orphanage. It was only supposed to be for a little while, but after he was released, he just disappeared. I guess he just couldn’t bear to look at us; maybe we reminded him of Mama.”

“I’m sorry, Gigi. I shouldn’t have asked.”

She wiped the tears away. “Oh, don’t be sorry, girl. You need to know the truth. I won’t always be around, and it’s about time I started opening up about the past.” Her eyes twinkled, and she stared off into space before returning my gaze. “But not tonight. You need your beauty rest, so get goin’.”

I set the photo down and kissed the top of her head before heading for the stairs. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“Yes, granddaughter, I promise!” she said in a mocking tone.

I walked down the hall. My bedroom was located at the end; the land outside the window came to a point in the bay, so I was surrounded by water. As I entered the room, I dropped my bags and went to the large windows that made up two walls. I was spent, emotionally and physically. As I observed how the lights of the other cottages lit up the lake, I thought about what a serene view it would be to fall asleep to. But I needed to close the drapes or risk being blinded when the sun came up. I stood for a minute, staring, before finally pulling the curtains together and falling into bed. I closed my eyes and relished my last image. Calm ripples caught the dying light, dazzling beneath the sky like diamonds.

CHAPTER NINE

I
woke to a general mayhem of shouting, mixed with bouts of banging. I dove deeper into my duvet and wondered who Gigi could have upset. She had an ongoing feud with her neighbour over their dog, which she had nicknamed Sir Shitsalot, but I couldn’t see old Mr. Crawford banging like that.

Unable to fall back to sleep, I climbed out from my blankets and peeked through the curtains, cursing under my breath. The sun flashed into the room, momentarily blinding me. It was daylight in the swamp, or so Gigi always said in the mornings.

I didn’t really want to rejoin the land of the living, but I crept down the hallway anyway, preparing for battle in case Gigi needed backup. One of the windows upstairs was open.

“I want to see her now!” said the voice behind the door. I listened hard, but I couldn’t hear what Gigi was saying. I knew it wasn’t pleasing our guest though.

“Unlock that door, or I’m going to take that key right out of your hand and do it myself.”

“Over my dead body.” This time Gigi raised her voice enough so that I could make out what she was saying.

“Fine with me.”

“Why, you arrogant little—”

“She is my fiancée, and I have a right to find out where she’s been and who the hell she ran off with.” I recognized that riled-up voice. My limbs filled with adrenaline. I couldn’t face him yet.

“Get your spoiled behind off my property, Nicholas, before I call the constable to drag it off.”

I reached the window just in time to see Nick open his car door.

No sooner did the words escape her mouth then he took off, spinning his tires in the gravel, kicking up rocks and dirt as he disappeared up the road behind the trees.

I paused at the window and watched Gigi walk back inside, smirking.

“Super-granny one, loser ex-boyfriend zero,” I said, smiling sheepishly as she returned.

“He was always such an asshole. I never understood what you saw in him.”

We both chuckled.

“Yeah, well, maybe I should have just talked to him.”

“And give in to the demands of that spoiled brat? Forget it—over my dead body. I’m gonna take the boat out. Do you wanna come?”

She may have been old, but she certainly didn’t act like it.

“Gigi, do you think it’s a good idea that you still row the boat every day? I mean, what if something happened?”

“Oh, Sophia. I don’t do much rowing anymore. I have my little trolling motor, but what do you think—I should just stop living life and crawl into bed ’cause I’m old?”

“No, but you could take it a little easier.”

“Hell, no. I’m not slowing down or giving in to anyone or anything, especially old age.”

I smiled. “That better be a promise.”

“What about swimming the lake beside me, like we used to?” she asked.

“No, I think I’m going to stay here. I need to call work, and there’s a few things I need to check out online.”

“Oh, that damn computer of yours.”

I laughed. “I know! I’m sorry, Gigi. Let’s make breakfast together when you come back, and you can tell me all about those tests you were having done.”

She looked at me hesitantly for a moment, like she had just swallowed poison.

“Gigi?”

“I already ate. There’s fruit in the blender,” she said sharply, and then she turned and headed onto the deck and down the stairs.

I watched her go, feeling butterflies churn in my belly. I didn’t think she had good news in store.

As soon as she hit the lake, I got dressed and turned on the computer, but I couldn’t focus with worrying about what she might tell me. I decided to just go and catch up to her. She was probably drifting around our favourite shore.

I quickened my pace and reached the beach at last, but she was just a speck on the far side. She must have been heading down to have tea with the neighbour.

Oh, well! At least the walk was nice, and the scene before me was picture perfect. Dark sand stretched out to kiss the surf. Lazy pines, mixed with cedar and white birch, swayed in the breeze. A mother goose with her babies strutted along the sand, at once elegant and gawky. A cat crept out of the trees, and a crow took flight.

“Sophia!”

I knew the voice. As I turned back, I trembled, both with fury and fright.

“You disappeared from the hospital.”

“I’ve gotta go.”

“I was worried about you. Why won’t you see me?”

“You strangled me and knocked me off a cliff, Nick. Why would I see you?”

“It was an accident. Besides, it wasn’t like the cliff was that steep.”

“Right,” I mumbled.

“Sophia, we need to talk.”

“We certainly do not.”

He hurried to catch up with me.

“Don’t!” I yelled back. “I thought Gigi told you where to go. Can’t you follow directions?”

But he kept coming, and his features displayed an agonizing torment.

“Don’t come near me… this is entirely wrong. I’m going back to the cottage. Please don’t follow.”

He reached out and pulled me roughly into his arms, ending my pleas with a fiery, one-sided kiss. I attempted to pull away, but he was stronger and proved his force.

“I missed you so much, Sofa.”

He shoved my skirt up to my hips and slipped his hand beneath it like a crazed animal.

“No—stop this! Stop it, Nick!”

I pulled away and turned back to the cottage, but he caught hold of me, and we both fell to the ground.

I could tell he was growing more upset with me.

He flipped me onto my back, holding me down at the elbows, sinking the angles of my arms into the grains of sand. With one hand holding both wrists, he undid his pants. I fought, but it only took him seconds before he had my underwear wrenched to the side. Between the tops of my closed thighs lay a triangle of space. He angled his way in, easily punching through. I hated it, and yet a moan escaped my lips as he hardened further. My mouth hung open in a sob. It hurt, so I cocked my hips to lessen the discomfort, keeping my thighs firmly shut. He rubbed hard against me, and I swelled against his rubs, until that part of me was ripe and round like a blueberry. I didn’t want to like it. I didn’t want to allow him to treat me this way. Putting more of his weight on me, he worked up to a faster pump, beating against me until the inner curves of my thighs began slipping in the sweat. I shut my eyes, and my breathing changed.

He slowed, knowing I’d given in. With my arms still pressed into the beach, he slid in and out, oiled repeatedly as he bounced against the round, ripe blueberry. He let go of my elbows, and his fingers moved directly to my breasts, squeezing my nipples.

He propped himself up, his elbows above my shoulders, and put his hands on my throat. I looked up at him, widening my eyes. On either side of my neck he placed a thumb. Both thumbs pushed inward toward the front of my throat. I grabbed at his wrist, but he pushed my hand away. I knew fighting would only make it worse. His thumbs continued squeezing as his hips jerked harder and faster against me, until his body shook convulsively before going limp.

CHAPTER TEN

E
very inch of my skin prickled and burned. I wanted him off of me. I wanted to shower and scrub my skin raw.

“Get the hell away from me!” I yelled as he stood up and pulled me to my feet.

“Come on, Sofa. I was just having a little fun. I missed you.”

“Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

I looked out to the water. Gigi’s boat was still just a speck at the end of the lake.

I turned and started walking back toward the Lake House.

“Sophia, wait. I want to talk to you. I wanna know what happened with that Irish asshole.”

“What? It’s none of your business. We’re through, Nick. I mean it.”

“I don’t think so.”

I could hear the anger rising in his voice as I walked farther away.

I started to run. I heard his footsteps gaining on me.

He was faster than me.

“Leave me alone!” I shouted, half-turning, almost running over old Mr. Crawford and his dog.

“You all right, Sophia, dear?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just heading back home. Alone,” I said, emphasizing the last word as I looked behind me. Nick had already taken off.

I locked the door and tried to think of how to tell Gigi. She’d go ballistic and go after Nick with one of Grandpa’s old shotguns—if she could still lift it. I hoped not.

I stepped into the bathroom and out of my dress. I turned the water as hot as I could get it. I wished I had a wire brush, but even that wouldn’t be enough.

I closed the glass door and stood there, letting the water beat over me. Maybe I wouldn’t have to tell her if there weren’t bruises from the pressure of his thumbs and fingers around my neck. I took a washcloth and lathered it up. I scrubbed hard until my skin turned beet red, and then I put the towel over my face, letting it wipe away my tears.

When Gigi got back to the Lake House I was pleased to see she was in a joyous mood. “Hey, doll. You get restless? That son-of-a-gun Crawford had his mutt out there soiling the lawn when I got back. He said he saw you.”

“Yeah. I walked down to the point,” I said, pouring myself a smoothie from the blender, leaving out the part about running into Nick. “I was hoping to catch up, but I guess I missed ya.”

“Yeah, I went down to Mabel’s for a tea,” she said, fiddling with her glue. “Now where’s that other box of pictures? Sophia, could you check the closet in the office?”

I wandered into Grampa Jackson’s office; tall bookshelves lined the room, and there were ladders that ran on tracks. This was where I had fostered my love for books. Dust hung suspended in shafts of light from the windows. Gigi obviously hadn’t ventured into his office since his death. I turned in circles, sensing the familiarity, trying to remember all the times I had spent in here colouring at Grampa’s feet or arguing from the other side of his desk. He had loved to tease.

Why had it been so long since I’d come here? I was rummaging inside the little closet, wondering where to begin, when I noticed a half-covered cubbyhole above the door.

“Well, now, Gramps, what were you hiding up here?” I moved to the cubbyhole and pulled it down. The box was filled with papers and books. At first I thought nothing of it; I pushed it aside and returned to the closet until I found the box filled with the old photos Gigi wanted. Then I began to wonder why Gramps would hide a box. I decided I’d take it up to my room and browse through it later.

“Hey, Gigi, I found them!” I shouted as I walked back down the hall.

“Great. Set them over here.”

“Can I help?”

“You can make a pot of tea and keep me company, maybe do some gluing now and then.”

“Sure, I just need to run upstairs for a minute.” I ran to the office and grabbed the box. I carried it up the stairs and set it in the corner. Then I unzipped the secret pocket of my suitcase. The rosewood box had remained safely hidden through everything. The box in itself was a beautiful piece of art. I rubbed my finger over the ornate elephant carved on the side before carefully carrying it back to the kitchen where Gigi sat at her crafting station.

Setting it on the table before her, I turned and grabbed a tea bag out of the cupboard. “There’s also something I need to talk to you about.”

I glanced back. She was touching the top.

“Where did that come from?” I asked.

“And I thought I was the one supposed to be losing my memory. A Punjabi carver.”

“Not the box, Gigi.”

“You want to know about the jewels, that it?”

“Yes,” I said, setting her tea off to the side so it could cool.

I popped the box open. We both gazed at the necklace. It was covered in purple gemstones, with two large emerald chips for eyes. It was much too decadent to wear normally, as was the matching bracelet that lay underneath. That was the reason I’d only ever worn the ring.

“Where’s the ring, honey?”

“You know, I don’t know, Gigi, and that’s what I need to talk to you about. You said this was an old family heirloom and to keep the box tucked away somewhere safe.”

“Yes, you did that, didn’t you? Did someone find it and steal the ring?”

“No—I don’t know. It may have just slipped off my finger in the water.”

“Sophia, you wore it?”

“Yes, Gigi, I did.”

“Oh, dear,” she said more to herself. She quickly pushed back from the table and began to pace.

I felt the blood rushing to my toes and wondered if I looked as pale as I felt.

“What’s wrong, Gigi? Wasn’t I supposed to wear it?”

Silence.

“Where did it come from?”

I followed her to the window and shook her shoulder to bring her out of her daze.

“What? Oh,” she said, looking up into my face. “It came from my Opa. He gave it to my mother on her wedding day. He only ever spoke of it once and he did so with humour, but my Oma seemed very wary of it and asked that I never touch it.”

“Did it come from Monaco?”

“Not that I remember, dear, but then again I was a child. I could have been distracted by a fly at the time. Why would you ask that?”

“Gigi, sit down. I need to tell you where I went when I fell into the water.”