Betrayal - Fern Michaels [19]
“Of course I’ll tell your mother you were sick. Which reminds me, I need to call them before they arrive in Cape Canaveral,” she said to Sara’s back as the obnoxious child raced out of the room.
Kate shook her head and left the room, with Emily at her heels.
“She’s so mean, Aunt Kate. I don’t believe she was sick, do you?”
“I don’t know. I do know that I didn’t serve raw bacon for breakfast. It was probably too much grease. She’s at a difficult age, Em, remember that.” That was lame, but it was all Kate could come up with.
“Yeah. Okay,” Emily agreed. She left through the kitchen, heading for the kennel.
Finally, with a few minutes to herself, Kate sat at the kitchen table in order to contemplate her next move. Of course she’d have to clean up the studio. She would call Nancy and tell her she wouldn’t be able to make the exhibition after all. There were plenty of other artisans who could take her space. Then she would talk to Alex. She’d tell him her misgivings. From there, they would decide what to do.
She’d wait until the girls left before she would allow herself a pity-party over the destruction of her earthenware and the lost opportunity. Months of work, gone, in the blink of an eye. She had an idea of what might’ve ignited Sara’s desire to destroy but wouldn’t mention it just yet. She hated to accuse anyone without hard evidence, especially a child; but in this case, she felt she had good reason to be suspicious of Sara.
Suddenly, Kate wished the two weeks were over, then felt a flash of guilt. She’d enjoyed so many summers and spring breaks with both of the girls, especially now that they were older. She loved teaching them new things, loved to see the smiles of satisfaction when they discovered something that excited them. This particular visit had just gotten off to a bad start.
Trying to talk herself out of her negative thoughts, Kate opened the freezer in search of something to prepare for dinner. She took out a whole chicken and placed it in the sink to thaw. She’d make her favorite chicken with yellow rice. That shouldn’t hurt Sara’s stomach. For dessert she’d serve lime sorbet with sugar cookies. She took frozen cookie dough she’d made earlier in the week from the freezer and placed it on the countertop. When she was stressed, cooking acted like a sedative to her. She started to relax as she set about her simple tasks.
Kate cooked the rice and put it inside the fridge for later. She sliced the partially frozen dough, placed the round circles on a cookie sheet, and put them on a shelf in the refrigerator. With nothing more to do in the kitchen, she knew it was time to confront the disaster that awaited her in the studio. She grabbed a broom and dust pan from the utility room, along with a couple of brown paper bags. Taking the same path she had earlier, Kate wondered how it was possible that she’d missed Sara in the act of destroying her earthenware collection. Why hadn’t she heard the pottery as it shattered? She’d been occupied with thoughts of Debbie and Don, but had she been that distracted? Admittedly, yes. She’d been so intent on her thoughts, she hadn’t paid much attention to anything around her. She prayed she was wrong about Sara, but she knew there was no other explanation.
Once inside the studio, Kate dispassionately swept the remains of months of hard work into the paper bags, telling herself there would be another time for her dreams. She’d start a new project when things slowed down at the restaurant. She still had her cooking classes to keep her busy, not to mention all of the baking she did for the restaurant and its many customers during the Christmas season. Once the holidays were over, she and Alex would go back to sharing the events of their day together over a nice glass of wine and a meal prepared by her. Sometimes they would go out, but mostly, they liked being alone at home together. It wasn’t unusual for Alex to make several nighttime trips to the kennel when he had a new litter of pups. Evenings out weren’t that frequent either, and