Chapter 2: House Guests

Cameron Stuart waited patiently while Jamie and Glynnis finished their breakfast and Jamie had moved off to his room. The woman looked decidedly more rested and at ease, a stark difference from her harried and worn-out appearance of the previous day. He could see she was an attractive woman. Alone in his bed, Cam had made a decision that would affect the two visitors and the only thing he was uncertain of was how to announce it to Glynnis Urquhart.

"So ... Glynnis ... what are your plans for today?" he tried tenuously.

She looked up at him, a hint of alarm at his question.

"Well," she began, haltingly, "I thought ... well ... we should pack up our things and be on our way. You've been so kind to us and I wish there was some way to repay you."

"Where are you planning to go?" he asked gently.

"I don't know. I hope I can find some place near here. It's so peaceful and nice here."

"So ... let me summarize, then," he said. "You have little money, a six year-old son, no place to live, and no job. Is that roughly your situation?" Again, he kept his voice non-threatening, but clear.

She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, a look of frustration on her face.

"Well, the solution is simple," he said with a voice tinged with authority. "You'll be staying here. You cannot continue to put yourself and Jamie in danger. I have a place for you that is safe and secure. I have food and transportation. I can take you to my neighbours or even the police and they will vouch for my character. But I cannot allow you to simply wander, hoping for some miracle to solve all your problems."

"No, I can't. I appreciate your offer, but I cannot accept it," she said, still unable to look him in the eye.

"Are you going to allow yourself to endanger the health and safety of your son? Do you really think I could stand by and let that happen? You know the alternative, don't you? Child Protection Services."

"No! Never!" she exclaimed before slumping into the kitchen chair, her shoulders shaking as she wept.

"Then it's settled. You are safe and warm and fed here. You are not a prisoner. You are free to come and go as you please. But for Jamie's sake ... and your own sake, this is going to be your home until we can come up with a better alternative."

The conversations had been held in quiet tones away from Jamie's hearing. He was watching television in his room and unaware of the drama between his mother and their host. Cam had no doubts that Jamie would never choose anywhere else to stay but this home.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked as her sobbing slowed.

"Because I can," he answered with a kindly smile. "You are a victim of circumstances that are not of your own making. You need help. You are safe here and I can well afford to help you. Besides, this house needs you. You and your son bring some new life into the place. We'll both know when it's time for you to go, but it won't be before you can give both Jamie and yourself adequate care. That means food and shelter in a safe location, as well as some income."

The tears started once more, but this time they were accompanied by the slightest of smiles and a nod of acknowledgement.

"Thank you, Mister Stuart. I promise we won't be a problem for you."

"It's Cam, remember?" he smiled, getting another nod in return.

"I can recommend this village as a nice place to live," he said, happy that the pointless argument had ended. "There's a good school just a couple of kilometres down the road and the school bus comes right by the house each morning. I realize it's almost summer vacation, but you might consider getting Jamie registered and have his records transferred here. That will tell you if he needs any additional help over the summer."

"There are no records," she said with a sigh. "There was no kindergarten in the district where we lived. But ... I guess it would be wise to register him anyway and get him into the system, no matter where we live."

"Good thinking. Did you have a job in Kamloops?"

She shook her head. "Not recently. We'd only lived there a couple of years. I've been a secretary and office worker in the past, but I have no special skill to recommend me."

"What kind of office work did you do?"

"A little bit of everything. I know my way around a computer. I did some simple bookkeeping and record keeping of inventory for a building supply company. I filled in at billing customers now and then when someone was away."

"Okay, that is useful experience. Anything else?"

"I used to help my father at tax time. He never had the patience to work his way through the forms for small business."

Cam laughed. "I know exactly how he felt. I use a local service for that myself. Like your father, I'm a small businessman, at least in the eyes of the government."

"You said you are a writer. Is that your only business?"

"Yes. I'm not much of a bookkeeper and pretty clueless about tax law, so I just gather up my receipts and income statements and hand them over to Betty Woodward, my accountant."

"Do you report every three months?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes. Betty has to phone me a month in advance to warn me to get my stuff together for her," he chuckled.

"Are we keeping you from writing?" she asked.

Again, he shook his head. "No. I write in spurts. If I have a magazine assignment, it usually comes with a deadline and I work to get it done before that deadline whenever possible. My free time, of which there is plenty, I use on my novels. They didn't used to have a deadline, but my publisher is constantly asking to let her see what progress I've made. I have a deal for three books currently, one of which is in the final editing process, one is almost ready for editing, and the third only in outline. But again, I work in spurts as the ideas and words come to me. It's not like a regular job, and some days, it just isn't there."

"So, you really have two jobs. The articles and the novels. Do the novels support you? Sorry ... stop me if I'm being too nosy."

"Yes, but I don't think of them as a long term occupation. I don't see myself as a John Grisham or Steven King type writer. This current three-book deal is a 'one off' for now. I'm not sure I would sign another one. It forces me to write rather than write when the mood and the ideas strike me."

"You're very lucky, Cam. You can dictate your work load. Not many people can do that."

"True, but it only works as long as someone wants to publish my writings. Otherwise," he grinned, "I'm unemployed."

"Do you have anything of yours that I can read?" she asked.

He sat for a while without answering her until, "I'll give you the pre-edited manuscript of my next book. I'd like to hear what you think of it so far. Will that be okay?"

"Yes ... of course, but I'm very hesitant to offer an opinion."

"Do you read novels?" he asked.

"Yes ... I had a library card in Kamloops and used it regularly."

"Okay ... you are my target audience; someone who reads regularly. Your opinion counts because it would be someone like you who shells out twenty-five or thirty dollars for one of my books. Or ... waits for the paperback," he chuckled.

"I'll look forward to reading it," she smiled.

"You know, that might be the second time you've actually smiled in the last two days. I'd like to see more of them. They do look good on you."

She blushed. "Thank you, Cam. Do you have your book in manuscript form?"

"No. It's on disc. I have a backup computer, so you can read it on that, or I can put it on my Kindle if you prefer."

"Oh, my friend had a Kindle. She found it really handy."

"It is. I'll transfer what I have to it this morning and you can read it at your leisure," he smiled.

"I'll get going and clean up the kitchen," she said, rising. "Then, with your permission, I'd like to do some laundry."

"Of course. Consider this your house and use the facilities as you wish. We'll have to sit down this afternoon and figure out what we need from the grocery store. I'm sure Jamie has cereal preferences and we'll want more milk, I assume. I'll let you lead the way on what we'll need to keep both of you properly fed."

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you," she said. "You've been so kind and I have so little to offer. I promise, we'll get out of your way as soon as we can."

"I wish you wouldn't talk like that. You are welcome here, as is your son. I'll be the first to let you know if you've worn out that welcome," he grinned.

"Is there a local paper for the village?" she asked.

"Not really. What do you want it for?"

"To look for help wanted ads."

"Oh ... I should have thought of that. The grocery store has a big bulletin board that people are free to post on. There are always some jobs advertised along with the free pets, things for sale and the like. Have a look there. You could post your own ad and leave my number as the contact."

"Oh ... that's a good idea," she said, brightening. "I'll get something written up and post it this afternoon."

Cam thought she was coming out of the previous day's depressed state quite nicely. She had something to look forward to as well as a secure place to be for the present. The more he saw of her, the more he realized just how attractive she was. Late twenties he guessed and, based on her speech, she was reasonably well educated. Perhaps as they got to know each other better he could draw her out and learn more about her past and her ambitions. Right now, it was enough to have her relax and feel comfortable and safe here in Frigate Cove.

"I don't see anything up here that I would be interested in, Cam," Glynnis said and she perused the bulletin board at the SaveMart. Some babysitting and daycare jobs, but I don't think I'd be very good at that."

"Why not? You've raised Jamie and he's a nice young boy."

"My happiest time with Jamie came when he could walk and talk. We could communicate and I felt so relieved that he could tell me when he wasn't feeling good, or didn't like something I served for supper. When he was little, I was so nervous if he was crying or off his food. I never knew for sure if he was sick or just being finicky. I've spent a fair amount of time with him teaching him to read and write and count. He's going to be okay when he goes to school. He does like to learn. He told me it makes him feel more grownup."

"Good for you, Glynnis. You've given him a good start in life. If his behaviour is anything like I've witnessed in the past two days, he's a well-mannered, polite youngster."

"Yes. Considering my live-in boyfriend was crude and ignorant, he's escaped without too much damage to his psyche."

"Why, if you don't mind me asking, why would you be with someone you considered crude and ignorant? You are neither of those things."

"You're asking the same question I asked myself a hundred times. Brad was a very dominant personality. I guess he overwhelmed me and I stupidly went along with him. At first he was reasonably kind and considerate, but as time when on, he became more unpleasant and verbally abusive. Finally, when he hit me the second time, I knew we had to get away. So, I ran as far as I could and used almost all of my money for the ferry to Nanaimo. The rest you know."