Spark Of An Idea

I lay next to Laurie. His hair brushed against my cheek, and his hand was on my hip. From the corner of my eye, I saw him flush slightly. The windows were closed, and the room was filled with dense, warm air. I longed for the breeze from outside and the will to carry on.

"What are you going to do?" He kissed my shoulder and asked in a low, husky voice.

"I'll have to handle Neil," I stared at the ceiling. "He has it coming anyway. I can't let anything happen to Wesley, I ---"

"I'd rather you not talk about him," he put his finger on my lips. His fingertips glided through my lips and the line of my cheekbone. "And Thomas said he won't do a thing?"

Locking eyes with him, I nodded.

"My brother truly is the root of everyone's unhappiness," he scoffed and tugged my hair behind my ear. "If he's not dealt with, no one can be freed."

"How can I deal with him?" I asked helplessly. "He's untouchable."

Laurie smiled. I wasn't sure if I liked that smile.

"Maybe the Italians can help if they know the truth about Matteo De Rossi's untimely death," he said as if he had planned to say this all along.

"What?" I was speechless. "I can't do that. I can't turn the Italians against the family. Do you know how insane that sounds?"

"Is it, Anne?" He raised his eyebrows. "After everything that's happened. Is it really insane?"

-----

An elderly maid poked her head through the narrow opening of the door. She was justifiably irritated, for she was disturbed at this ungodly hour by a visitor who came unannounced. Squinting, she switched on the porch light. The annoyance on her wrinkled face quickly dropped when she saw the visitor.

"Who is it?" A voice was followed by rapid footsteps coming down the stairs.

"It's Mrs. Murphy, miss," she said in uncertainty until I reassured her with a nod, "Mrs. Thomas Murphy."

She was forgiven for not knowing my name.

As the footsteps grew closer, I realized how nervous I was as I began to rotate the ring around my finger. The nervousness was accompanied by excitement since this was the first time I had a chance to see my old friend after her incident.

"Anne!" Emma opened her arms when she saw me and hugged me warmly. "It's so good to see you."

"Good to see you too," I said. "I'm glad you're doing better. I'm sorry I came here this late at night."

"Nonsense," she took my arm and wrapped hers around mine to lead me inside, "it'd be worse if you never came. I'd be sad."

She sounded high-spirited, and I was thankful. Emma seemed to be the Emma from the old days again, the Emma I knew and befriended when I joined the family. Though the friendship had gradually faded over the years as I became more and more occupied with business, I had missed my time with her. In my memory, she was different from the others. She was always cheerful, lovely, and kind. She'd look into my eyes when I talked to her, nodding, agreeing, or sympathizing with those things that I had professed to her. She had no interest in the business, though she would've been good at it. She wanted to be a governess or a piano teacher. Once, she even made Lizzie agree to help her find a potential employer, to which Lizzie did. When Emma went to Thomas for approval, Thomas laughed and brushed it off, saying that kind of work would be inappropriate for a Murphy.

"Would you like me to bring you anything, miss?" The elderly maid asked after Emma sat me in the drawing room.

"Could you be kind and bring us some tea?" Emma said politely. "Then please head to bed, Nellie; I wouldn't want to overwork you when you've got a bad back to care for."

The elderly maid smiled and thanked her. I felt ashamed that I couldn't be half as lovely as she was.

"It's wonderful to be in my own house again," she said cheerily. "Something's ridiculously stuffy in that old house of Victoria's."

She laughed. I too.

"It's a joke," she sounded secretive. "Don't tell anybody I said that. It's a beautiful house; too bad they're selling it."

"Are they?"

"Well," she shrugged and looked surprised that I didn't know, "Laurie doesn't want that house. Thomas said there's no use for it. So, they're selling it. I guess Victoria is getting the money, but who knows? And honestly, I don't care."

"Do you know whom they're selling it to?" I asked.

"I don't remember. Wait, I overheard Wesley's call the other day; let me think," she tapped on her chin, "I think it's someone by the name of Rossi or De Rossi?"

My stomach churned. I felt nauseous. I wondered if Laurie knew and why Wesley didn't say a word to me about it.

"Is everything all right?" She asked concernedly. "You look very serious."

"Yeah…yes," I nodded. The elderly maid had brought tea. I picked up the cup from the table and took a sip. The tea was burning my tongue, and I couldn't care less.

"Isn't it hot for you?" Emma asked, weirded out by how fast I was drinking.

"No," I lied, "not at all."

Hearing footsteps from behind, I looked back. Wesley greeted me and sat down with us uninvited. He had moved into Emma's house not long ago. I was glad he no longer had to stay in that small, cramped place.

"Anne's here to see me," Emma said to Wesley joyfully, "isn't it nice?"

"Of course," Wesley smiled on the lips while something else was in his eyes. "I'm sorry, but do you mind if I talk to Anne for a minute? It's about work."

"Certainly," Emma stood up with her teacup in hand. Pretending to be serious, she said: "Although no longer than a minute, you both need to forget about work for some hours of the day."

He waited until Emma was out of sight before turning to me: "I guess now you know. Antonio De Rossi is buying Victoria's house."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was waiting for an appropriate time," he said. "I was planning to tell you after the deal is done."

"Are the Italians planning to stay in the county?" I asked dryly.

"Yes, though I'm not sure to what extent," he handed me a cigarette and took one for himself as well. "However, it's obvious they plan to spread their influence as much as they can without crossing the family."

"And Thomas is fine with it?" I stroke a match.

"No," he answered and lit his cigarette with the flame from my match. "He said he'll deal with them when he has to."

I scoffed and puffed the cigarette: "How much does Laurie know?"

His expression changed. I could tell he was debating whether he should say what he knew. In the end, he said: "All of it. It's his house too. Thomas wanted to keep him in the dark, but he was smart enough to figure it out alone."

I sighed: "That's why he told me I should use the Italians to deal with Thomas."

Wesley dragged his cigarette and blew the smoke: "If you ask me, I don't think that's a bad idea. It could be your chance, and he can't stop you if the Italians are pressing on him."