Chameleon Games E-Book

June V. Bourgo

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

After being incarcerated for countless years, Chelsea Grey is reunited with her mother and daughter, and begins her search of self. Finding reconnection with the world difficult, Chelsea seeks the freedom and finds it while working at the Wildlife Center.

But soon, a burglary, a gun-wielding thug - and her own insecurities - threaten to destroy what she's gained. As Chelsea seeks confidence and a new lease on life, an unwanted conspiracy winds its way into her world.

Can Chelsea uncover the truth - and find the strength to trust again?

Leseprobe

CHAMELEON GAMES

The Crossing Trilogy Book 2

JUNE V. BOURGO

CONTENTS

Other Books by June V. Bourgo

Acknowledgments

Part I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Part II

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Epilogue

Next in the Series

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2019 June V. Bourgo

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

OTHER BOOKS BY JUNE V. BOURGO

The Crossing Trilogy

Magnolia Tree, Book 1

The Georgia Series

Missing Thread, Book 3

Chasing Georgia, Book 2

Winter’s Captive, Book 1

To my twin sister, Janice Sheila Rogers…

I wish we’d had more time together in this realm.

See you in a parallel universe.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

With this trilogy, I adopted a different style of writing. I chose to bring a secondary character from the first book, Magnolia Tree, into the forefront of this story. Sydney still maintains a character role in Chameleon Games, as does her grandmother, but the main protagonist in this tale is her mother, Chelsea Grey. I hope you enjoy the transition.

The town of Stoney Creek, Emerald Lake and Tallulah Falls are fictitious names, but the rest of the areas mentioned are real locations in the Okanagan area of this beautiful province of British Columbia.

No story can be its best without some team work. I am fortunate to have a group of people who help me in a supportive and nurturing way; pushing a point when needed, but never to the point of losing the original concept. To my Beta Readers, Anne Marsh, Heidi Frank, and Ronald Bagliere, your diverse creative insights and skills are always appreciated.

And to my husband, Dennis, for his constant support, creatively and personally. I can always count on his patience when I disappear into my world of characters and plots.

A big thank you to Patti Roberts of Paradox Book Covers Design and the team at Next Chapter for the beautiful cover.

To Next Chapter, thank you to the whole team for helping to make Chameleon Games the best it can be. And to Miika Hannila, your understanding of the digital marketing field and your dedication to helping your authors is truly amazing, and I am grateful.

I

Loneliness is the poverty of self;

Solitude is the richness of self.

MAY SARTON

1

KELOWNA

Chelsea Grey pushed her pounding head upwards, bending her neck back so her face caught the full force of the hot, steamy water. Still a little inebriated, her legs wobbled, knocking her off balance. Oops! She locked her knees and threw her hands forward to steady herself firmly against the shower stall wall. She would have giggled if the facial images of her mother and daughter weren’t still fresh in her mind.

The night before, she’d gone to a night club and danced until closing. What’s wrong with that? It made me feel free. She’d left with some joker and his friends and partied all night at his house. She frowned. Okay, so things got a little out of hand. She couldn’t recall everything…too much booze and pills. Her stomach rolled over, and she took in deep breaths of moist steam until the nausea passed.

Chelsea had returned home moments ago and immediately headed to the shower. Faces of people she didn’t know flashed through her mind. Chelsea winced. For the life of her, she couldn’t put names to them…mostly she envisioned bodies intertwined around a room. Shame overwhelmed her. She placed her face against the marble wall and let the water pound down her back. What was I thinking? The problem isn’t my lack of thinking, that’s just the cause and effect of the real problem—booze and pills.

Chelsea stepped out of the shower stall. She wiped the mirror with a towel and stared at her image. The face that reflected back shocked her. Her blue eyes were red and glassy, her cheeks blotchy. Her long, blond hair hung wet and stringy down the sides of her face. Not a pretty sight. She watched water droplets find their way down her forehead and follow the length of her nose to the tip. Her eyes focused on the drip, drip, drip as they left her face and fell to the counter. In that moment, Chelsea saw the face of her future; all that it could mean and what it could cost her.

You just turned forty years old. Keep up this lifestyle and the looks you still have won’t last long.

She made her way to the bed, dropped the towel from her body and climbed under the covers. Her thoughts returned to her mother and daughter eating breakfast when she’d arrived home. Her heart felt heavy. It wasn’t that they said anything. Not a word from either one. It was their expressions. That said it all—the pain and worry on her mother’s face; the anger and disappointment in the eyes of her daughter. Chelsea felt pained. One thought came to mind just before she passed out.

I’m so messed up.

* * *

The motor sound got louder and louder. What the hell? Chelsea tried to ignore it and pulled the pillow next to her over her head to drown out the annoying noise. It didn’t work. She tossed the pillow off the bed in a fit of temper.

“Aargh…trying to sleep here!” she shouted.

Forcing her eyes open, she focused on the alarm clock on the side table. “Omigod…” The digital numbers read three in the afternoon. She’d slept through most of the day. Chelsea pushed the covers back and sat on the edge of the bed. The pounding in her head, worsened by the constant drone of the neighbour’s chainsaw, brought back the memory of her exploits the night before. A groan escaped her lips and she crossed the room to close the window and at least muffle the grating racket.

Chelsea padded to the bathroom to relieve herself. She filled the sink with water and used her hands to splash it on her face and neck. The sting of the cold water jolted her back into the land of the living, however painful. She grabbed the bottle of mouthwash to gargle and rinse away the horrid taste and rancid breath exuding from her mouth. Only then did she look at herself in the mirror. Her face mirrored the pain she was feeling inside; physical effects of course, to be expected after her indulgences the night before—but there was something else looking back at her from the reflection. It was something that had been well hidden in the past but now stared back at her from deep in her eyes. An awareness of mental and emotional pain slapped her so hard across the face, like the sting of the cold water moments before, that she reeled backwards. The words she’d thought this morning before passing out came back to her: I’m so messed up.

A brushing of her long, blonde hair, some blush and pink lip gloss helped to normalize her otherwise stressed face. She added some concealer under her eyes and eyeliner. Much better. Skinny jeans and an oversized sweatshirt suited her mood, and Chelsea dressed, adding a pair of rainbow-striped woolly socks. She went to the kitchen. Thank God, it seems no one’s home.

A thermos of hot coffee sat on the counter with a clean cup beside it. A daily gesture of her mother’s that evoked a feeling of guilt. Chelsea poured herself a cup. The neighbour had finished his wood cutting chore, and assured of peace and quiet, she slipped through an all-glass door to the enclosed sun room and curled up on the loveseat.

The sun shone through the large panels of glass. It was a beautiful April day. Chelsea found it hard to believe she was living in her mother’s bungalow in Kelowna. Where did the time go?

She’d been held captive by Arne Jensen for twenty years. He’d abducted her at the age of nineteen and locked her up on his farm, across the road from her parents’ place. Her daughter, Sydney, was a year old at the time. Four years later, Chelsea’s father died of a sudden heart attack and her mother, Elizabeth, had left the farm with Sydney and moved to Kelowna. They returned years later when Sydney was twenty-one. Sydney found her mother’s journals, and through a series of events, dream sequences, and visitations from spirits, and a set of lost keys, Sydney and Elizabeth discovered her existence at Arne’s and rescued her.

She shuddered at the thought of Arne. He’d died that fateful day that Chelsea found her freedom. One swift blow to his skull with a cast-iron fry pan delivered by her mother, and all of their lives changed forever. Chelsea sighed and put her head back against the back of the loveseat. She closed her eyes and felt the hot rays of the sun reflecting off the glass panes onto her face. There had been times that she’d missed him. After all, he’d been her only companion and provider for all that time. And she’d learned how to be what he wanted and bend to his rules to avoid punishment. Not that it worked all the time. He could be unpredictable and unreadable.Sometimes his demons surfaced for no apparent reason, and Chelsea bore the brunt of it. But still, he was my only connection to the outside world and within the confines of my prison; the only one who could take care of my needs.

Nine months of freedom. Why don’t I feel free?

A broken ankle had brought Sydney’s grandmother back to the farm to recuperate, and Sydney had renovated the farmhouse and started a home-based business. When Chelsea was freed, the three of them lived at the farm for two months. Her mother, Elizabeth Grey, returned to her home in Kelowna once her ankle was on the mend to her hairdressing business. Chelsea came with her. Living across from Arne’s property wasn’t an option. She needed to find a life for herself and heal. For six months she’d attended counselling and tried to fit into a world she didn’t know or understand. Then at New Year’s she discovered night clubs and dancing, reconnected to music which she’d always loved…and found alcohol. The pills were a new addition. And Chelsea was forced to face the fact that she was on a reckless course that spelled disaster.

The door to the sunroom opened. Chelsea turned her head and watched Sydney cross the room and pick up a sweater from a chair. A pretty girl, she had her mother’s blue eyes and blond hair, only she wore hers in a razor-cut shag that fell around her face. Chelsea watched her daughter hold the sweater against her chest and stare out the windows, oblivious of her presence. “Hey.”

Sydney jumped. “Uhh…” She turned towards her. “Chelsea…I didn’t see you sitting there.”

A pang of disappointment passed through her. Chelsea…not Mom. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No problem.” Sydney started towards the door.

“Please…sit with me for a minute. I haven’t seen much of you since we went out with Mom to celebrate our birthdays.”

Sydney stiffened. “I’m packing. I have to be back in Stoney Creek for a yoga group session. The residence is full this weekend.”

Chelsea felt awkward. She knew Sydney was angry with her. “Just for a few minutes. Talk to me.”

Sydney sat rigidly in one of the wicker chairs facing her.

“I know you’re upset with me.” Chelsea paused to gauge her daughter. “We need to discuss it.”

The girl stared at the floor. “I don’t know if this is the right time.”

“Somehow I think if I left it up to you, the time would never be right. You’re angry with me, I know.”

Sydney raised her eyes and looked at her mother. “Yes…I’m angry. About a lot of things.”

“Well then, let’s start with the first thing.”

Sydney’s eye’s narrowed. “If you insist. I’m angry that you came on to Jax. What mother does that? Comes on to her daughter’s boyfriend?”

Chelsea’s face reddened. “I did, and I’m sorry. But I was drunk at the time.”

Her daughter leaned forward towards her. “Nuh-uh…you don’t get to write it off like being drunk is the excuse and that makes it okay.”

“That wasn’t my intent, just an explanation. He had flattered me, and I needed that. As lame as it sounds, I forgot for the moment that he was with you. Of course, it was totally wrong, and I feel terrible about it. It won’t happen again.”

The young woman sat back in her chair. “Until the next time you’re drunk. It hurts for me to say this, but how can I trust you? And I don’t mean just about Jax.”

It was Chelsea’s turn to stare at the floor as she weighed her next words. “Today, I realized how messed up I am, and I…”

Sydney interjected. “Yes, you are. It saddens me, disappoints me, and completely disgusts me.” She stood and paced the room. “I thought I’d found a mother…my mother. But you don’t act like a mother. You dress like me, you listen to the same music as me, and you act like we’re best friends or something. Chelsea, you’re forty years old; I’m twenty-two. I just don’t know how to absorb that.”

Tears filled Chelsea’s eyes. “I was a good mother to you when you were a baby. Ask your Nan, she’ll tell you. But you’ve come back to me two years older than I was when I was abducted. I just…I just don’t know how to be a mother to an adult because I don’t even know how to be an adult myself.”

Sydney sat back down. “And do you think you’ll find that out in the bottom of a bottle? Oh…and that’s number two on my angry list. Yes, you were victimized for twenty years. I can’t even begin to imagine how that affected you and what it cost you. God knows I’ve tried. I’ve been patient, tried to understand the stages, and I’ve gone to counselling. But you…you’ve given up.”

Chelsea eyes flashed with anger. “I have not.”

Her daughter leaned her arms across her knees and stared across at her mother. “Oh, really? You moved to Kelowna for a new start six months ago. You were going to go back to school. Instead you’ve become a drinker and partier and stopped going to therapy.” Sydney stood and grabbed her sweater. “And that brings me to the thing I’m angry about the most.”

Staring up at her daughter, Chelsea said nothing. There was so much she wanted to say but knew it was best to let Sydney get out all the anger she’d been holding back. “Tell me.”

“My Nan. She spent twenty years in silent pain, wondering if you were dead or alive.” Sydney paused. “It was easier for her to handle your disappearance by believing that maybe you ran off and were alive somewhere living a happy life, even if you didn’t want her in it. When we found you, do know how guilty she felt carrying that anger towards you for all those years, when you were right across the road the whole time locked up by her neighbour?”

“There was no way she could know that,” Chelsea whispered.

“No, there wasn’t. And then she got you back and instead of building on the time the two of you could spend together, you’re throwing it all away.” Sydney was worked up now, and her voice had risen to a fever pitch. “It’s one thing to deal with all of this, but watching Nan suffer—it sets my blood boiling. You lost twenty years of your life. There’s nothing you can do to change that. But you could have three times those years in your future to make up for them. But if you choose to remain a victim and follow the path you’re on, you’re going to self-destruct, and you’ll take Nan along with you. And if that happens, then I wish we’d never found you.”

Sydney turned and ran out of the room.

Chelsea was blinded by her tears. She wanted to chase after Sydney, but she couldn’t move. She stared ahead through the windows into the garden. Everything her daughter had said was true. This morning she’d faced her inner demons, seen herself as the person she’d become. She’d wanted to explain it to her daughter but knew in Sydney’s current emotional state she wouldn’t have believed her. It was better to say nothing.

The front door opened and closed. A few minutes later a car engine could be heard, and Chelsea knew her daughter had left. I wish we’d never found you. The words hurt. They cut deep into Chelsea’s psyche. She let the tears flow, buried her face in her hands and cried. She cried for the pain she was causing her mother and daughter; she cried for all that she’d lost; but most of all she cried for her own weakness.

2

Elizabeth Grey studied her granddaughter. She knew her facial expressions and body language well. Something’s wrong, she thought.

The two had met for an early dinner at their favourite Greek restaurant before Sydney was to head home to Stoney Creek. All through their meal, her granddaughter was distracted, and her conversation was vague. Sydney was picking at her gluten-free lemon tart, while Elizabeth sipped her coffee. “Okay…what’s going on?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You’ve been distant throughout the whole meal.”

Sydney smiled. “You know me too well.”

“Yes, I do. And I know you’re upset about something.” Elizabeth reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

“Oh, Nan. I had words with Chelsea before I left the house. I said some horrible things to her. I didn’t mean to, but once I started I couldn’t shut up.”

The thought of her daughter brought a look of pain across Elizabeth’s face. “I can’t say that I’m surprised. It’s been a long time coming. The two of you have been at odds for months. Even our dinner out the other day to celebrate you and your mother’s birthday was obviously tense.”

Sydney’s brow went up. “I was hoping you hadn’t noticed. Do you know why?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I assumed because, like me, you’re disappointed in how she’s handling her problems.”

“That’s part of it, yes. But it’s more complicated than that. I’ve been really angry at her. She wanted to talk about it, and I let loose. Remember when Jax and I came up to celebrate your birthday?”

“Yes, it was a fun night.”

“Most of it. You went home ahead of us with your friends and Chelsea got drunk…per usual. I went to the ladies’ room, and when I got back, she was all over Jax. He was embarrassed, and I was disgusted.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m so sorry. But perhaps it’s for the best that you talked it out with her.”

“Nan, I was really mean. I said her lifestyle was hurting everyone, especially you. And if it continues, I wish we’d never found her.

Her grandmother cringed. Her chest hurt. “Oh, Sydney.”

“I’m sorry. I feel terrible, but sometimes that’s how I feel. I understand why she’s struggling, but it’s hard when she acts out and does things like coming on to my boyfriend.”

“I’m not condoning her actions of late, but it’s only been nine months. Chelsea has a lot to overcome.”

“I know. But this sudden drinking and partying path she’s on can only hurt her. I want to understand her battle, but to me it’s like she’s given up.”

Elizabeth put her cup down. She absent-mindedly wrung her hands together. “She’s definitely in a self-destruct mode. I talked to Dr. Sauvé about it. I was hoping she could do something in this type of situation, but her hands are tied.”

Sydney gave up on her lemon tart and covered it with her napkin. “Do something like what?”

“I don’t know…maybe put her in a hospital for thirty days observation where she’d get counselling more intensively, send her to rehab…something. Dr. Sauvé says she’s an adult and unless she tries to harm herself or others, she doesn’t have the authority under the law to do anything about it. And Chelsea hasn’t returned her calls since she stopped going to her sessions, so she doesn’t really know what’s going on with her.”

Sydney reached over and placed her hand over her Nan’s to stop her from rubbing her fingers raw. “It’s a worry, Nan. But I don’t know what we can do. Chelsea has to figure this out on her own. My main concern is really the effect it’s having on you.”

“It is hard, but I’m hopeful she’ll heal. We’ve both given her lots of space, even when we haven’t agreed with her behavior. It’s time I try to talk to her. I’m sorry your talk went badly, but give her some space and time.”

The waiter brought their bill and Elizabeth insisted on paying. The two women left the restaurant and walked towards their cars.

Sydney linked her arm through her Nan’s. “You know, I suggested she read her journals months ago because I thought she might reconnect with that strong, independent person she was before all this happened to her.”

Elizabeth stopped beside her car. “I get why she didn’t want to go there. It would have made her feel like a failure now. I’m hoping that the free spirit she has hidden somewhere inside her will fight its way to the surface.”

“Let’s hope so. I’d best get going, Nan. Give me a hug.” The two embraced.

“Drive safe and text me when you get home,” Elizabeth said.

“I will.”

Not ready to return home, Elizabeth called a friend and arranged a visit with her for coffee. Three hours later she drove into her driveway. There were no lights on in the house as she unlocked the door and let herself in. She knocked on Chelsea’s bedroom door. With no answer, she opened it, confirming that she was home alone. Out again. She walked over to her daughter’s unmade bed and straightened it out, an unconscious effort that gave her little comfort. Not wanting to imagine where her daughter was or with whom, she retired to her own bed early. A favourite series on Netflix with new episodes caught her attention. When she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, she turned it off and fell asleep.

A short time later, she awoke to hear the front door open and close. Chelsea passed her door and entered her own bedroom. The clock read 10:30 p.m. Elizabeth was surprised.

An early night for once. At least I know she’s home and safe.

3

SEVEN HOURS EARLIER…

Chelsea used the sleeves of her sweatshirt to wipe the tears on her face. A calmness enveloped her as she stared through the window pane, focusing on the antics of a black squirrel running up the bark of a tree. The sun disappeared around the corner of the house and the room chilled. Goose bumps rose on her skin. She ran her hands up and down her arms over her sweatshirt to warm them while reliving the confrontation with her daughter. Sydney’s hurtful words forced Chelsea to assess the past nine months, to re-evaluate her actions and face her failures. She tried to imagine it all from her mother and daughter’s perspective.

A burst of jumbled ideas assaulted her mind. One word rose to the surface above the quick succession of thoughts that opened her to an awareness—victim. Sydney had used the word in her anger towards her.

I was a victim; I AM a victim…because I still think of myself as one.

Chelsea gave this a lot of thought. She’d talked through all the stages of her recovery with Dr. Sauvé and experienced all of them; shock, anxiety, guilt, depression, anger, loss, and loneliness. But understanding them didn’t seem to be helping her. Why?I want to feel normal—be normal.

In that moment, Chelsea knew what she had to do. She returned to the kitchen with her empty coffee cup. A glance at the clock told her it was 4:00 p.m. Hmm…better get a move on. It’s getting late in the day. She retrieved the telephone book and searched until she found the number she wanted. She punched in the number and waited.

A voice answered. “Rhyder Developments, Mr. Rhyder’s office.”

“Hello. Is Mr. Rhyder available?” Chelsea asked.

“He is in, but I’m not sure he’s taking calls at the moment. Can I ask who’s calling?”

“Yes, please tell him Chelsea Grey would like to talk to him. It’s important.”

“One moment, please,” the voice said.

Chelsea paced the kitchen, tapping her fingers nervously on the cell phone to the beat of the music playing in her ear. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Chelsea? Wes here. I’m so glad you called. How are you?”

Wow, he sounds the same as he did at eighteen. A nervous laugh escaped her lips. “Well…that’s a loaded question. Let’s just say I’m getting there, or trying to. Listen, Chaz…” The nickname she’d always called him slipped out. Another snicker. “…or should I call you Wes?

It was Wes’s turn to laugh. “No one’s called me that in years. You can call me Chaz if you like, either way is fine. It’s good to hear your voice.”

He sounds as nervous as me. “I’d like to thank you for the flowers and card. I should have called months ago, but I wasn’t…” Chelsea faltered, searching for the right words. “I wasn’t ready to talk to people from my past.”

“Hey, I get that. I really do. And now…here you are.”

Chelsea decided to get to the point. “Listen, there’s something I’d like to run by you, but I’d rather not do it over the phone. Do you think we could meet for coffee?”

“Sure. When did you want to get together?”

“As soon as possible. I need to make a decision, and our meeting might have an effect on that.”

“Wow, intriguing. Look, I’m finishing up here for the day. If you’re available now, why don’t you come to my office? Everyone will be gone in thirty minutes and we’ll be free to talk.”

She let out a sigh. Step one. “I’ll be there.”

“Third floor, turn left when you leave the elevator. How do you like your coffee? I’ll order some in from downstairs.”

“Black, thanks.”

“Easy. Okay, see you soon.”

Chelsea raced to her room and pulled off her sweatshirt and replaced it with a black silk blouse with a cowl neckline. She redid her make-up and pulled her hair up and tucked it into a wool cap, leaving a partial bang and wisps of hair soft around her face. Black leather knee-high boots over her skinny jeans and a black leather bomber jacket finished her apparel. A glance in a full-length mirror revealed a haggard face with tired eyes. That’s as good as it gets, girl.

As she drove to meet him, she thought about their teenage relationship and all that had happened over the past twenty years. She had grown up and gone to school with Chaz in Stoney Creek. Wes ‘Chaz’ Rhyder had been her only teenage boyfriend. They’d been in love. But after he’d left Stoney Creek to go to university, she never heard from him again. At least that’s what she thought. Chaz had written letters and called, all intercepted by her father, who didn’t like his family. After her father had passed, her mother found the letters and put them away. Chelsea had gone missing by that time, and Chaz had married another. When Chelsea was found and freed after twenty years, her mother gave her the letters.

After his marriage had failed, Chaz returned to Stoney Creek to set up his own construction and renovation company and recently moved to Kelowna to go into commercial development. He was also the father of Jax Rhyder, her daughter’s boyfriend. Jax had stayed behind in Stoney Creek to run his own residential development and renovation company. When Sydney moved back to the family farm in Stoney Creek, she hired Jax to renovate the buildings on the property, and their business relationship became personal.

Chelsea arrived at Chaz’s building right on time. She took an elevator up and found his offices easily. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, opened the door and entered.

Chaz came out of an inner office right on cue. “Chelsea. Please, come in.”

Chelsea was taken back. He looked almost the same at forty as he had at nineteen. His blond hair was a little shorter than in those days, his blue eyes still sparkling. A few lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes added a mature look. A mature, handsome man stood before her, no longer a boy. A damn handsome man.

He led her into his office. “Let’s sit here in the armchairs.” He handed her a cup. “One large, black coffee.”

“Thank you.”

She took in his office. Dark heavy furniture with winter colours of rich browns and olive green. “Nice office. You’ve done well, Chaz. You must be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

“I am, and proud of Jax. He’s doing well in Stoney Creek.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Chaz changed the subject. “It’s so good to see you.”

“And you.” Chelsea dropped her eyes to the floor. It had been twenty-two years since she’d last seen him. “This…this is really weird.”

Chaz nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. “It is that. Look, one day, if you are up to it, maybe we can talk about what happened back then—I mean…not about Arne, but with you and me. Somehow, I don’t think this is the time. Why don’t you tell me about this decision you need to make and how I can help you?”

Chelsea nodded. “We’ll talk—one day. A couple of months ago, I had a conversation with Jax about your grandparents’ cottage at Emerald Lake. He reminisced about summers he spent at the lake in his childhood and how you rarely get to go there anymore. I told him about the one trip you and I made to visit your grandparents the month before you left Stoney Creek. He mentioned that you had considered selling it, but your heart wasn’t in it because it held so many memories from your own childhood.” She paused to take a sip of her coffee.

“No, I can’t bring myself to sell it. But it’s a shame no one gets to use it. I try to go to the lake a couple of times a year to check on things.”

“I’d like to address that. I was wondering if you’d be willing to lease it to me.”

Chaz’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Are you planning to live there full-time?”

“For a while anyway. Let me be honest here. I’m sure you’ve heard from within the family that I’ve been having my struggles of late. Some of my choices have been…let’s just say not helpful to my healing.”

Chaz studied her for a moment. “I always ask after you. Although Sydney and Jax have expressed concern for you, they’ve not elaborated on anything specific.”

If he’d heard anything, he chose not to say so. She appreciated his discretion. Chelsea decided that this was a good place to leave that part of the conversation. "I need to make some changes, and to do that I need to live alone. And I need to have some space. The cottage is perfect. There are neighbours close by, but they won’t be in my face.”

“Can I ask how Elizabeth and Sydney feel about you distancing yourself? They’ve just got you back into their lives.”

“I haven’t told them yet. Hopefully, they’ll understand my motives. They do want what’s best for me. And Emerald Lake is halfway between Kelowna and Stoney Creek, so they can visit whenever they want.”

“Hmm…two questions. Did you want it furnished, and when did you want to move in?”

“Furnished would be great to start, and as soon as possible. I’ve received victim compensation monies from the province and a monthly living allowance until my doctor deems me able to work and be a productive citizen. I’d planned on going back to school, but I’m just not ready to integrate with people. I’m thinking of taking online courses from home.”

“That’s a great idea.” Chaz looked at his watch. “I haven’t been to the lake since October, and it’s due to be checked. The hydro is always on. The electric heat kept low. There is a pellet stove if you like fires. Are you up to taking a run there right now?”

Chelsea’s face lit up. “Now? Absolutely.”

Forty minutes later, they reached Emerald Lake, southwest of Penticton. Chelsea couldn’t believe the changes in the area. “Omigod…is that a subdivision on the north side of the lake?”

“Yup.”

“Wasn’t that part of the Double T Ranch?” she asked.

“It was. They sold out to a developer and moved into Penticton. But on our side of the lake, the south end, the Desert Hills Ranch worked hard to have the land designated an environmental grasslands protection area. So all the properties on the south side back onto the grasslands. They’ll never be developed. Sure pissed off the developers.”

“That’s impressive and so right. I’m happy your cottage is on the south side. There’s some beautiful hiking trails back there.”

“There are. But don’t forget the rock cropping half a kilometre back. Rattlesnake Bluff—aptly named for its deep crevices full of rattlers.”

“Ewww…I forgot about that place. A beautiful spot from a distance.”

They reached the driveway and turned in, pulling up beside the cottage. Chelsea got out and looked out at the lake. She instantly felt a sense of peace. “Our timing is great. With daylight savings last weekend, we have another hour of daylight.”

“I was thinking that, too, when I suggested we come right away. I’d forgotten how tranquil this place makes me feel,” Chaz said.

Chelsea looked from east to west. “What I love is that I can sit on the deck in the early morning with my coffee and watch the sun rise in the east and sit out here again in the cool of the evening and watch it go down in the west. Beautiful.”

“Let’s go inside and check the mouse traps.”

Once inside the sprawling open-style Pan-abode, Chaz checked all the traps. “Wow…no mice this year. Guess I found all the holes last year.”

“Good to know.”

They walked the three-bedroom cottage, searching for anything that might need repair. “I was planning to repaint the trim and modernize the doors, and replace the curtains with wooden shutters. It needs a good cleaning, too.”

“I don’t mind doing the work. I’d enjoy it. It’ll be fun and keep me busy when I’m not doing studies.”

Chaz studied her. “Okay. How does this sound? You do what you want to the place—cleaning, painting, new whatever—and I’ll pay for the materials and throw in the first month’s rent free.”

“So whatever I decide, do you want me to run it past you first?”

“No, I trust your judgement. If you’re going to live here, I want you to be comfortable.” His eyes scoped the living room. “Whatever you choose will be an improvement over this old tried look. And I’m sure your choices would be better than mine.”

Chelsea laughed. “Come on. You’re an architect.”

Jax scoffed. “I design exterior structures, not interior design. Well, I could, but it’s not what I like to do. Feel free to do what you like. You can use my commercial account in Kelowna to charge materials. Now that I see the old furniture, if you want to put your own furniture in, I’ll take this stuff away. Most of it will be tossed, but there’s some memories attached to some of it, and Jax and I might want to keep some of it. I’ll give you a list of my suppliers and let them know you can use my accounts.”

She crossed her arms across her body and walked in a circle around the room. Chelsea turned to the expansive living room window and stared out at the lake. “It’s perfect. When can I move in?”

“I’ll be out of town tomorrow, but the day after I’ll get some keys cut. I’ll drop them off at your mother’s that night if that works. And the cottage is yours.”

Chelsea grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, Chaz, thank you. I’m going to love it here. Will you bring a lease with you? How do you want to set up payments?”

“We don’t need a lease. You can stay as long as you need to and leave when you are ready. As for rent, I’ll give you my account info and you can set up auto-pay if you want.”

She nodded her head. “Okay. We’re doing this.” She put out her hand and they shook on it.

They left the cottage and Chaz locked up. “See that shed? It’s filled with bags of pellets. Should last you for a couple of months anyway…” He stopped mid-sentence. “I should have shown you how to use the wood stove. Let’s go back.”

“No need. It’s the same model as Sydney’s in Stoney Creek. I know how it works.”

Chaz laughed. “Of course, a Rhyder Construction special.”

It was dark when they reached Penticton. Chaz broke through her thoughts about what she would say to her mother about moving out on her own. “Are you hungry? We could stop here for some dinner.”

“I’m starving. Let’s stop.”

Settled at their table, they studied the menu. The waiter asked if they’d like some drinks first. Chaz looked up at Chelsea. “Would you like some wine?”

“Um…no. Nothing for me, thanks.”

Chaz was a good companion. He kept up the conversation throughout their meal with stories about raising Jax on his own, and his business dealings, never once asking her anything personal. Chelsea felt at ease, just an evening out sharing a meal with an old friend. Almost normal…almost.

He dropped her off about 10:30 p.m. back in Kelowna. “Thanks, Chaz…for the cottage and for dinner. See you day after tomorrow.” She watched him drive off, and as she let herself into the house, she noted her mother must have retired early. She smiled to herself.

I guess I am, too. It’s been awhile since I was home this early…and sober.

4

Dr. Sauvé sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I’m so glad you called this morning. It’s good to see you again, Chelsea.”

“Thank you for fitting me in on such short notice.”

“If you’ve decided to continue our work together, I’m grateful that I had a cancellation.”

Chelsea shifted in her seat. “Well…that is something we need to discuss.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“In recent months, my life has kind of fallen apart. I’ve made some bad choices. I’ve come to recognize that changes are needed.”

“Recognizing that is a healthy sign. But I’d like to talk about the bad choices you say you’ve made for a moment. Do you understand why you chose them?”

“Maybe not entirely…yet. But I do know they’re destructive and won’t help me heal.”

“That’s a positive step.”

Chelsea leaned forward towards Dr. Sauvé. “The most important trigger for me is that I’m still feeling like a victim.”

“This is something we’ve discussed as you’ve moved through the stages of healing. Intellectually, you know you aren’t a victim anymore. But you’re still emotionally tied to the victim cycle. But why? This is something we need to continue our sessions on.”

Chelsea frowned. “I think I’ve figured out part of the reason why.”

Dr. Sauvé wrote something in her notebook, but her expression remained stoic. She looked back up at her patient. “Continue.”

“Because all the people around me see me as a victim. They express it through their facial expressions, their eyes, their hesitant verbal interactions with me, or their blatant curiosity and infuriating questions.”

“You aren’t responsible for what other people think or say to you.”

“I know that…but every day they remind me that I’m different…not normal. And then I come here and we talk about it all over and over again, which just reinforces it.”

“You need to separate your perception of yourself from theirs.”

Chelsea jumped up. “Exactly.” She paced back and forth in front of her doctor. “There’s only one way I know how to do that.”

“Please, sit down and tell me.”

She sat down and tried to relax. “I’m moving out of Kelowna. In order for me to become introspective and figure this all out, I need to be away from people.”

“And where would you go to be away from people?”

“Jax Rhyder’s father, Chaz, is willing to rent me his grandparents’ cottage at Emerald Lake. It’s right on the lake, and there are hiking trails through the grasslands. A peaceful hit of nature.” Chelsea looked expectantly at Dr. Sauvé.

The doctor looked concerned. “And what about our sessions? Will you continue them?”

“Doctor, we’ve talked all this out over and over for months. I don’t want to keep talking about what happened to me. I need to move forward. It’s the only way I see me growing.”

“My concern is that you may be thinking that a change of location will make it all go away. That’s just running away. There are no geographical cures.”

“That’s not my plan. I don’t want to stop thinking about it, I can’t. But I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“What do you plan on doing with yourself all day, alone and hidden away in a lakeside cabin?”

Chelsea chuckled. “It’s a beautiful, bright and open-plan Pan-abode cottage with three bedrooms, not a cabin. I do have neighbours around the lake. There’s the small town of Tallulah Falls close by, and I’m only forty minutes away from my mother and you, and thirty minutes away from my daughter. And I plan on taking online university courses.”

“Are you still taking your anti-depressants?”