Key to my Heart

Beacon Pointe

Judy Kentrus

Published by Judy Kentrus, 2023.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

KEY TO MY HEART

First edition. March 11, 2023.

Copyright © 2023 Judy Kentrus.

ISBN: 979-8350705393

Written by Judy Kentrus.

Key to

my Heart

Matilda

Book 1

By

Judy Kentrus

Key to my Heart - Matilda

Key Series – Book 1

Copyright April 2023 by Judy Kentrus

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publishers, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Author:  Judy Kentrus

www.judykentrus.com

Publishers Note:  This e-book of fiction was written for your own personal enjoyment. Names, characters and places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living, or dead is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording without the permission in writing from the publisher.

Book Title:  Key to My Heart

Edited by:  Joyce Lamb Editing

Key to my Heart

Matilda

Chapter 1

Faith! Hope! Charity! Why is this icky blue slime in my bathroom sink? Despite the carpeting on the steps, the thumping of hurried footsteps said the girls had heard Matilda’s demanding question.

As expected, her daughters rushed into the bathroom, arriving in perfect order: tall, medium, and short. Their blond hair was so light, it was almost white. From the tone of her voice, one might expect them to be upset by their mother’s annoyance, but she was a sucker for their we don’t know what you’re talking about grins.

Faith, being the oldest, was always the official spokesperson for the threesome. It had been that way since Matilda had become a foster parent five years ago for the three sisters, but now they were all hers. No matter what Matilda said or did to convince Faith she didn’t have to watch over her sisters like a protective parent, the eight-year-old hadn’t totally given up the reins.

The straw in their hair and mud on their cheeks told her where they’d been. A piglet wiggled in Hope’s arms. Matilda leaned a hip against the old-fashioned enamel sink. She loved them so much and didn’t want to think about them growing up.

Sorry, Mother. We got a new slime recipe from Clare Trent, and we wanted to try it out. Then we remembered we had to feed the animals. We knew we couldn’t leave it in the sinks that the guests used, so we left it here.

Her annoyance melted from her daughter’s very clever answer. Thank you for remembering to do your chores, but you do need to clean this up. Do you remember I have an appointment this evening?

Why are you going out? Faith asked, getting the roll of paper towels from the linen closet in the bathroom.

You never go out at night and leave us. Hope collected the can of Scrubbing Bubbles.

Matilda trusted the seven-year-old to use the cleaning product without creating too much foam. She reached for the brush on the wire shelf above the sink. A trip to the beauty salon was very much needed, considering her hair would soon brush her waist.

She was quite comfortable wearing long skirts and soft-soled flat sandals. At the V-neck closing of her white gauze blouse was a hammered-copper and turquoise pin in the shape of a fan. It matched her long drop earrings. Making jewelry had started out as a hobby, but it had turned into an almost-full-time business.

The piglet found a home in Charity’s arms, and she skimmed her cheek against the little critter’s head. Who’s going to watch us? Her blue eyes reflected her fear that Matilda would be leaving them for a few hours.

She lowered to her youngest daughter’s height and swept a length of hair off her face. Mr. Rhoades will be watching you. I’ll only be gone for an hour or so.

If she were going to trust her daughters to anyone, it would be Hudson Rhoades. He’d been living here for almost a year. He designed and installed alarm systems, but also provided personal security for Everett Troy, the Tony and Oscar awards winner who had given up his Hollywood lifestyle and moved home to marry the girl he’d left behind. When Vinny, Matilda’s stepsister, who owned a construction company, couldn’t make an emergency repair, Hudson always came to her rescue.

Despite how long he’d been living here, whenever Charity saw Hudson, she kicked him in the shins.

The six-year-old shrugged. He’s okay, but can we have popcorn and watch a movie in our playroom?

Sure. I won’t have any guests until the weekend. With the opening of the Bessandra Troy Museum, we’ve got a full house.

Are we going? Faith asked. There will be lots of movie stars! Marion is going!

Her grandfather just happens to be Everett Troy, and Bessie was Marion’s great-grandmother, so she has to be there.

The expected pouts on all three faces were evident. I can’t promise, but there’s a reception before the opening. Maybe I can figure out something for you three to do.

Yippee!

The slime was now in a plastic garbage bag, and the sink was sparkling clean. You need to put the piglet back in the pen and then wash up. I made your favorite, macaroni, and cheese. There’s also mini meatballs and ambrosia salad.

Did you put in extra marshmallows and cherries?

Matilda tugged on one of Hope’s pigtails. Yes. Now off with you. I’ll meet you downstairs. Oh, and showers right after dinner.

After putting on a light peach lipstick, she walked into her bedroom, stepping into another era. She’d been required to bring the house up to building code before she could have guests, but she’d tried to maintain the integrity of the home that was built in 1895. She was positive a section had been built earlier, but she’d never located the paperwork.

The walls were dated with flowery wallpaper, and the burl wood furniture had once belonged to Margie, her grandmother. The grandam was ostentatious. The bed posters were carved with pineapple-shaped finials.

The focal point to the dresser was the round mirror supported by a desk-height dressing table. The long crystals on the lamps tinkled when brushed with a finger. The cherrywood floors were cold in the winter, but she didn’t mind. She’d added throw rugs in wine and beige to complement the wine-red brocade bedspread.

This wasn’t the time to admit she liked the result of all the work she’d put into sprucing up the bedroom. This meeting with the family lawyer had been totally unexpected and thought-provoking. At least she wouldn’t be alone. Her three stepsisters would be with her since this apparently had to do with the four of them.

She got her purse and sweater from the closet and walked down the stairs. Here, too, the walls were papered, but she’d downsized the flowers to small violets and rosebuds. The colors blended with the natural mahogany trim and doors. The turn-of-the-century gaslights on the walls were now electric, thanks to Vinny.

When she got to the bottom of the steps she paused. When her guests entered through the front door, they stepped into Victorian surroundings. Her favorites were the oval stained-glass windows on either side of the double-wide carved oak door.

The focal point was a circular ottoman-type settee that could accommodate three people. The olive-green upholstery complemented the taupe and beige walls. Above the half-round sign-in table to the left of the entranceway was a large gilt-framed photo of Margie and Marshall Holcombe. She owed them a great deal and was determined to keep their legacy alive.

An expanded doorway on the right gave entrance to the living room. Here, too, the Victorian-themed furniture was complemented by bright colors and the round backs of the two brocade couches. The burl wood and pine accent tables had also belonged to her grandmother.

Rather than cover the long windows with heavy velvet drapes, she’d made balloon valances for the six windows. The girls knew the parlor and foyer, along with the dining room, were off-limits when it came to playing.

Margie had added a sun porch to the back of the house, just off the kitchen. Her grandmother loved to sit next to a window and feel the soft energy of the sunlight. The girls had deemed it their official playroom and hang-out space. With the warmer weather, they spent a lot of time outdoors, playing with their menagerie of animals in the barn.

She walked into the kitchen and paused, appreciating the way the girls had taken their seats at the table. The Tiffany lamp over the table cast a rainbow of colors on the high ceiling. They’d washed up, and all evidence of playing with their farm pets was gone.

Her babysitter was just removing a casserole of macaroni and cheese from the oven. He’d already set the bowl of ambrosia and mini meatballs on the table. He still wore his dark gray chinos and navy golf-style shirt with the Adams Security logo on the left sleeve.

In all the time he’d lived here, Hudson had never brought up his past. His always-neat appearance and the shine on his work boots indicated he’d spent some time in the military. A generous mixture of gray threaded through his sable-brown hair that he kept short on the sides and a little longer on top. When he smiled, laugh lines crinkled at the outer edges of his brown eyes.

She considered herself tall at five-eight, but she had to look up at his height of six-three. Truth be told, she found him a handsome enigma, one she’d really like to get to know a whole lot better.

I see you have everything well in hand, she noted.

Mama, you look pretty, Charity said. Doesn’t she look nice, Mr. Hudson?

She looks beautiful. But of course, he couldn’t say that, not to her face.

How his life had changed. Twenty-five years ago, with a newly minted degree in computer engineering, he’d designed security systems for industrial complexes. Now he was overseeing the safety of an Oscar-winning movie star and serving dinner to three adorable little girls. Their beautiful mother appeared too often in his dreams causing sleepless nights. The years in between were giving him nightmares.

He’d never anticipated this assignment lasting so long, but once they had the grand opening of the Bessandra Troy Museum, his job would technically be over. There’d be no reason to stay. Decisions had to be made. It was either renege on a promise he’d given to a dying man or tell his boss the real reason why he’d taken this assignment a year ago. Lincoln Adams wouldn’t appreciate being made to appear the fool.

A kick to his shin brought him back to reality. He looked down at the beautiful cherub grinning up at him. Charity, I’ve been living here for over a year, so I deserve an explanation as to why you constantly kick me in the shin. Don’t you like me?

Oh, no, Mr. Hudson. I like you. I’m trying to get your attention. You’re big and I’m small.  Everyone forgets about me.

Hudson tugged on one of her drooping pigtails. Charity, I can assure you I’d never forget about you. Okay, now start eating. I want to talk to your mother.

He walked to the other side of the large country kitchen where Matilda was putting on her sweater. He kept his voice low. In answer to the little troublemaker’s question, you look lovely.

Thank you, Hudson, and thanks again for watching the girls. Hopefully, this won’t take too long. They know to take showers after dinner. Since it’s Friday night, they can stay up a little longer, with popcorn and a movie.

They both glanced at the table to make sure there weren’t any problems. He walked Mattie out the side door and across the parking area to where she kept her minivan. She pressed the button to release the lock, and he opened the driver’s side door.

You seem very apprehensive about this meeting.

Thank you, Hudson. You’re such a gentleman. To tell the truth, this meeting with our lawyers was totally unexpected. She secured her seat belt, but hesitated before starting the engine. Nancy Jean said it’s important and involves me and my stepsisters.

Speaking of important, is the Footlight Theater Guild ready for the grand opening of the Bessandra Troy Museum next weekend?

I’ve arranged for everyone to meet in the theater schoolroom in the basement of the Footlight Theater next Wednesday at six-thirty p.m. I’m dropping the girls off at Mollie Trent’s house so they can play with Clare.

Perfect. I’ll be there, and we’ll go over the arrangements. I’ve tripled our security detail.

Hudson… She said his name with hesitation. Does this mean you’ll be leaving us?

How much he wanted to believe he heard disappointment in her voice. This is the longest I’ve been in one place, but I’ve got to talk to my boss. Who knows? He tapped the roof of her van. Drive safely. The girls and I will be fine.

After the girls went to bed, he’d be reaching out to his boss. He’d better not eat too much popcorn. He was going to have to swallow a generous helping of humble pie.

While the girls took their showers, he cleaned up the dishes and started the dishwasher. Matilda had made sure the kitchen came with modern appliances, but the country theme of blue and yellow made guests feel at home. The eating alcove, as the girls liked to call it, held a long table with church-pew-like benches on either side. The large window provided a view of the fenced-in yard. He could also see the slate walkway that led to the two-story barn, chicken coops and small pens for their pets.

The barn cats took care of the mice. The rest of the critters, a mother and father pig with their three piglets, a dozen chickens and two roosters made up their menagerie. Recently, the girls had been talking about getting a horse. Matilda had given them a tight-lipped grin and said, We’ll see. They’d come to realize that probably meant no.

He’d just finished filling movie-theater-style popcorn holders with popcorn when the girls came downstairs. Their hair was still wet, and they wore pastel-colored sweats and socks. He passed each one a small piece of paper and a pencil.

What’s this for? Faith asked.

Before you start arguing, everyone write down the movie they’d like to watch, fold the paper in half, and I’ll choose.

The expected whack from a sock-covered foot met his shin. Mr. Hudson, I know my letters, but don’t know all the words.

Charity, sound out the words, and I’m sure I’ll be able to understand what you write. Now, everyone on the couch, and I’ll hand out your popcorn and a Juicy Water.

In the end, he was surprised by the movie that won. The Greatest Showman was Hope’s nomination. He’d had the pleasure of meeting the star at a premiere he’d attended with Everett Troy. He kept it to himself the ringmaster would be there this weekend. He’d make sure he got an autograph for Faith.

Right after the movie, the girls brushed their teeth and went into Faith’s bedroom. They’d hang out together until their mother came home.

He, too, took a shower. His room was one of only three that had a private bathroom. The water was hot and plentiful. The older enamel tub and pedestal sink came with personality. He’d gotten used to the knocks and shudders. Matilda had made improvements to the house, but she’d kept the steam heating system that included old-fashioned iron radiators that she’d painted. The bathroom was always toasty warm, and he liked that he could warm up his towel on the radiator while he took his shower.

Even though he’d lived here for over a year, he had very few personal possessions other than his regular and work clothes. The flower-covered walls had taken some getting used to, but he liked the lighter oak furniture. The darker blue and tan pattern on the spread and drapes complemented the paper.

The room came with a big, bulky armchair and a desk. He’d added a second monitor to his computer so he could keep an eye on specific security locations. He checked his messages and saw that his sister had sent him her weekly email. Having grown up in foster care, they’d remained close.

As his sister worked as a teacher on an island in the Persian Gulf, he was concerned for her safety. Renee felt comfortable since