Taking a Chance on Love by Mary Razzell

Author:Mary Razzell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ronsdale Press

Chapter Nine

On my way to work the next morning, I called in on Amy to ask her about the fight between Robert Pryce and Mr. Ballard the night before. Mrs. Miller met me at the door, still in her pale blue baby-doll nightgown.

“Amy’s gone out in the boat with the Pryce boy,” Mrs. Miller said. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t have any idea when she’ll be back.”

There was no sign of Bruce when I went into work. Anna looked up from rolling out a pie crust and smiled at me. She eased the pie crust carefully into the waiting pie plate and began to trim it, humming as she did so.

“Your date turned out okay?” I said.

“Better than okay.”

Upstairs, I found three suitcases outside the door of Dr. Barras’ room. The door was slightly ajar, and the sounds of a quarrel carried out into the hallway. Although Dr. and Mrs. Barras were trying to whisper, the voices seemed to carry even further than if spoken normally. It was all the sibilants, I decided. They sounded like snakes hissing.

The doctor’s voice was angry. “No, I do take it seriously. Seriously, I say. Rob Pryce being attacked by an outraged husband at the dance last night. His brother, your son, Glen … acting like a randy teenager. The girl hanging onto him … no better. I don’t want your son bringing this kind of chaos into our household. Think of our children.”

Glen’s mother’s voice was soothing. “Don’t upset yourself, Harold. Think of your blood pressure. Leave it to me. I’ll take care of everything.”

That afternoon when the Lady Cecilia called in on her return trip to Vancouver, I made sure I was sweeping the porch outside. From there, I could see the gangplank. Glen was there with his mother. But instead of following her up onto the ship, as I’d expected, he bent his head and kissed her on the cheek, as if in goodbye.

I didn’t see Bruce until later that day. He looked much better and wanted something to eat. I cut a slice of homemade bread, toasted it and slathered on the butter. The coffee was newly brewed, and I poured him a cup, adding extra cream and sugar. He looked tired, and the bruise in front of his right ear was an angry purple. But at least he was no longer staggering.

“Thanks for last night,” he said quietly. “You came through like the trooper I know you to be.”

From then on, every time we met he’d smile briefly, or give me a thumbs-up.

“I’m worried about Bruce,” Mrs. Hanson said to Anna a few days later as she kneaded the bread dough. “I don’t think he should be out fishing. The glare off the water could make him dizzy, and he’s out there all alone. Dr. Casey did tell me that with Bruce’s ear injury, bright light could bring on a spell of dizziness. But he needs to be doing something. He’s getting impatient waiting for this last skin graft.”

“Did the doctor say it’s okay for him to go dancing?” Anna said.

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