At Wick's End - Tim Myers [57]
The two eldest ladies winked at each other, and I had sneaky suspicion Kathy was going to be getting a double serving, whether Mom knew about it or not. As I locked up after them, it made me realize just how alone I was in the world. Here was a family of four generations, getting along like the best of friends, while I was the last twig of the last branch of my family tree.
It made me miss Belle even more.
After Eve and I topped off the candles with the reheated wax, it was time to close the place up for the night.
“So I’ll see you in the morning?” I asked as we walked out of the store.
“Bright and early. Sorry for the confusion today, Harrison, I really did think you knew.”
“Not a problem. I appreciate the lesson tonight. It was great fun.”
“I had good students,” she said. “Besides, I assumed you could use the practice before Mrs. Jorgenson comes; back in.”
“If we pour candles then,” I said. “Who knows what she’ll decide come Monday.”
“I doubt she’ll be content to keep rolling candles, not when there are so many other techniques in candlemaking. She wants to learn it all, so you’ll need to be ready for her. That makes her the perfect student in my mind.”
“It doesn’t hurt that she’s able to pay our fees either, does it?”
“As you said, we do have to make a profit,” Eve replied, a statement I heartily endorsed.
I never could have imagined how much companionship Esmeralda offered during her brief stay with me until she was gone. Belle’s apartment was lonelier than it had ever been without the weight of Esme on my lap as I read. Even Dame Agatha had trouble holding my attention, and I knew the problem lay with the reader, not the author.
I finally put the book down and decided what I needed was something to take my mind off Esmeralda’s absence. When I’d been cleaning out Belle’s closet, I’d noticed a set of odd U-shaped iron bars embedded in the wall leading to a scuttle of some sort in the ceiling. Perhaps there was an attic up there. I’d been curious about it, but hadn’t had the time to do much exploring until now.
I climbed the steps and found a dead bolt hidden within the top that secured the cover firmly. Not knowing if it would even open, I threw the bolt and pushed, expecting great resistance.
The cover nearly flew out of my hands.
Somebody had used the scuttle frequently enough to want to keep the hinges well-lubricated. I couldn’t imagine Belle climbing that iron ladder, but the old gal had fooled me more than once over the past week. Eve had told me about Belle’s recent fear of heights, but I knew firsthand that she hadn’t always felt that way. She’d been a fixture in every tree house I’d ever built, prodding my imagination with stories of pirate ships and great castles as we swayed high above the ground.
When I looked up, I found myself staring at the clouds of the evening sky. I wasn’t about to go traipsing around on the roof without some kind of light to guide me, but my curiosity wouldn’t allow me to wait till morning to check ill out. There wasn’t a flashlight anywhere in sight, but I did see Belle’s candle on the table and the matches beside it. I grabbed those, then climbed up awkwardly with my added burden.
It was amazing, standing up on that roof as the night crept in. Micah’s Ridge was laid out below me in the distance as twilight came. There was something about the darkness that enhanced the town’s beauty, hiding the bad and highlighting the good until the last whispers of light finally faded away.
Belle had a lawn chair set up under an umbrella stand anchored beside it. The umbrella was chained to the stand, lying on the roof next to it. I couldn’t imagine Belle up there, but who else would even know about the scuttle that ran through her closet, unless there was another opening somewhere else on the roof. I lit the candle, watched the flame flicker then take hold as I cupped one hand around the wick to block the breeze that was still kicking around. It was amazing how much illumination