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Summer on Mirror Lake

Page 19

by JoAnn Ross


  “What happens now?” she asked. Her voice sounded both angry and resigned at the same time. This obviously wasn’t her first rodeo.

  “We find your foster mom,” Aiden said.

  “She’s on the coast. She got a gig last weekend at a casino dealing blackjack that pays more than both her jobs here.”

  “This is Tuesday.” Chelsea’s voice was calm, but tight. He knew Hannah had heard it too, when her arms tightened.

  “She was offered a few more days. Then some more, so she decided we should take the bus back here.”

  “It took forever,” the younger one said.

  “We had to keep stopping for all these other people to get off,” Hannah said.

  “That’s why it was so slow. Mrs. Hayes said the tips are awesome,” Hailey piped up. “Maybe we’ll go out for ice cream when she gets back.”

  “Who’s taking care of you in the meantime?” Chelsea asked. Gabe knew she was keeping a tight rein on her emotions when her voice turned to an ice he’d never heard. Not even when he’d been purposefully rude to her in the shop to make her go away.

  Hannah shrugged. “Me.” More squaring of shoulders as if she were mentally preparing for a cage match. “I’ve done it before. It’s no big deal.”

  “You’re a wonderful big sister,” Mrs. Lawler said. “And Hailey’s fortunate to have you taking care of her, but as happy as I am to have you visit, you girls really do need an adult. One a little younger than me. Not that I feel that old, but I suspect I don’t quite make the qualification age cut.”

  Hannah shot Aiden a hard look far older than her young years, whatever they were. “Hailey,” she said. “Maybe you and Mrs. Lawler could go get another cookie and a glass of milk.”

  “What a great idea,” the older woman said, immediately catching on. Gabe figured at one time she’d had kids and could pick up on the signs. She took hold of the younger girl’s hand. “Do you think you can help me plate them to take to the church tomorrow? I can’t decide which would be the best one to put them on.”

  “Okay. Do you have a plate with dragons? That would be the best.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t. But I do have several decorative ones with flowers. I even have one from my wedding.” Her cloudy eyes turned a little dreamy. “Truth be told,” she leaned down and said, as if sharing a secret with the child, “fifty years ago, my mama and daddy said we’d never last.

  “But we showed them. I only lost my husband in January of this year. My favorite plate has a painting of Lake Crescent Lodge on it, with pink roses around the rim. My Joe bought it for me when we were honeymooning at the lake and my bouquet had been made of pink roses. Back in those days, Blue House Farm wasn’t growing flowers so they had to be brought in all the way from Portland. Do you know it’s called the Rose City?”

  “No.”

  “Well, now you do.”

  “I also didn’t know people got to eat cookies at funerals. I don’t remember Mommy and Daddy’s funeral,” she said as they left the room. “Hannah told me it was really nice, though. With lots of flowers. I like flowers. Hollyhocks are my favorite, because if you turn them upside down, you can pretend they’re princesses wearing colored gowns and make them dance.”

  Once the swinging door to the kitchen had closed, Aiden addressed Hannah’s question. “I have a night number for social services. I’ll call and they’ll send someone to get you settled.”

  “We’re not going anywhere if they try to separate us.”

  “I’m not sure that’s your choice at the moment,” he said gently.

  “Yes.” A sharp young chin shot up. “It is. Because if anyone tries to put me in a different home than my sister, I’ll run away and come get her. Then we’ll both run away to someplace where I can take care of her without anyone moving us around all the time.”

  Chelsea dragged her hands down her face. When she took them away, Gabe could see the tears shining in her eyes.

  “Honey, as much as I understand your feelings, that truly is a very dangerous idea and I know your first priority is keeping Hailey safe.”

  “Yeah. I sure did that tonight,” she said.

  “Not your fault,” all the adults in the room responded.

  “So,” Chelsea suggested, “how about them staying with me?”

  “You?” Aiden and Hannah asked in unison. Having come to know Chelsea Prescott, Gabe wasn’t surprised at all.

  “I’m employed. I have room in my apartment. The girls could take my bed and I could sleep on the couch. I’ve lived here forever and everyone knows me. Aiden, surely if you, and your mom, and perhaps Mrs. Henderson, could vouch for me, I’d be given some sort of temporary foster designation. Because of this being an emergency situation.”

  “One of my deputies tried to rent an apartment in your building,” Aiden said. “And was told kids aren’t welcome.”

  “So Mrs. Moore told me when I rented the apartment. But the Fair Housing Act makes that illegal,” Chelsea pointed out. “He could have fought it.”

  “That’s what I told him. But he decided he didn’t want the hassle. It worked out. He’s now in one of those restored Craftsman bungalows in the former mill housing neighborhood. In fact, he lives two doors down from Jolene and me. His wife and Jolene are already plotting to have our daughter, if we have a girl, and their son get married someday.”

  “I live by my planner,” Chelsea said, another thing that didn’t surprise Gabe much. “But planning that far in advance seems a bit excessive... Is Jolene pregnant?”

  “Not yet. But it’s not for the lack of trying.” He immediately looked up at the ceiling. Then rubbed his hand across his brow. “Sorry, TMI.”

  “Don’t worry. I know all about sex,” Hannah said. “One place I was in, one of the foster parents’ sons tried to have sex with me when I was feeding the horses in the barn.”

  “Oh, no!” Chelsea gasped, looking stricken. She was a grown woman. Undoubtedly she’d heard stories, same as he had. But having one hit so close to home was admittedly a shocker.

  “What did you do?” Aiden asked casually in what Gabe figured had been his good cop voice when he’d been working LA’s mean streets.

  “I put a pitchfork against his chest and told him that if he ever tried that again, with me or my sister, I’d run him clear through with it. And if that didn’t kill him, then I’d call the cops. Though I’d rather have had him die slowly. And painfully.”

  “I can understand the impulse,” Aiden said. “But if it ever happens again, call 911 first. Because you wouldn’t be of any help to Hailey if you ended up in juvie.”

  “Yeah. Like cops are going to help us. We’re the invisible forgotten kids in the system. Some families are nice, like Mrs. Hayes, though she’s not real dependable. But that’s because she’s been having a rough time making ends meet after her husband ran off with a woman he met in rehab.”

  It occurred to Gabe that the girl knew more about the dark side of life than any child should. He tried to think back on Brianna around this age and vaguely remembered slumber parties and boy band crushes.

  “Sometimes, like on that farm, we’re taken in to be free workers. It’s a better deal for the foster parents because the state pays them for us to be there. We kids share stories. And lots of times, even if a kid does complain to the social worker, they believe the family. Because it’s easier, and less paperwork on everyone’s part.” She shot Aiden another look. “Including the police.”

  It was his turn to fold his arms. And return her hard look with one of his own. “Not my department.”

  The stare down lasted probably thirty seconds. Then Gabe could tell when Aiden had won her over. Or maybe she was just understandably worn out from trying to be the adult. The defiance left her expression, her tight arms unfolded, and the ready-to-fight stance relaxed a bit.

  “Maybe you’re different,”
she allowed. “So, hey, if they don’t approve Ms. Prescott, maybe you can let us bunk on the cots in your jail cells.” It was snark. And a challenge.

  One the former marine and undercover big city cop ignored. “And have you taking up bunks I might need for actual criminals? Sorry, kid, that doesn’t really work for me.”

  “You don’t talk like a cop.”

  “Sometimes I don’t feel like one, either,” Aiden said. “It’s a new gig, so I’m still finding my own groove, so to speak.”

  “They could stay at the cabin,” Gabe heard himself saying. “I’m not doing anything except building a boat. Since you’re my brother and have known me all my life, you could vouch for me.”

  Aiden’s brow furrowed. Gabe suspected Honeymoon Harbor’s former bad boy had never imagined being responsible for the entire town and everyone in it. He wondered how many times his brother had had to make a possibly life-changing decision. “I’m not sure that’ll fly with social services,” he said. “Two young girls staying alone with a guy. Even one I could and would vouch for.”

  “I could stay with them,” Chelsea said. “It’s a big house. I imagine there are a lot of bedrooms, right?” she asked Gabe, her innocent expression not revealing that she’d already been there.

  No point in letting people think they were becoming a thing, Gabe silently agreed. Two adults who might have hot sex on the kitchen counter while impressionable kids were sleeping in the house might have trouble making the approval list. Though, he considered, once everything settled down, that counter idea had potential.

  “There are two separate wings,” he said. “It was designed for a kids’ wing and an adult wing.”

  Aiden rubbed his jaw. “I’ll call and have someone come over here and we’ll see what we can work out.”

  “We’re not going to be separated,” Hannah insisted yet again.

  “As one of five kids, I get that,” Aiden assured her. “Let’s wait to burn that bridge until we’ve crossed it.” He went outside to make the call. Less than three minutes later, he returned to the house.

  “Your social worker’s on her way. Mrs. Douglas was a substitute teacher at the high school for about twenty years. Which is a good thing, since that means she knows Gabe’s and my mom really well.”

  “Why?” Hannah asked.

  “Because my mom’s been principal for nearly forever.”

  “I’ll bet that sucked for you.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Aiden laughed. “You’d be right.”

  It didn’t take long for a blue SUV to pull up outside the house. Having declared the building safe, Flynn and the other firefighters had taken off. Gabe recognized the woman with the short gray bob immediately. Mrs. Douglas hadn’t been one of those subs who’d let kids get away with murder, or hand out passes for supposed restroom breaks so they could wander the hallways the rest of the period. She’d been tough. But fair.

  “Hello, Hannah,” she greeted the older girl. “I hear we have a slight situation.”

  “The microwave burned up when I was making S’mores for Hailey.”

  “So Chief Mannion told me. He also said that you handled it very well, getting your sister out of the house right away.”

  “Duh. Knowing to get out of a smoke-filled kitchen doesn’t take that many brains.”

  Gabe was getting a handle on the kid. The more frightened she became, the tougher she got. In a fight-or-flight situation, she’d always fight.

  “Well, I’m still glad you did. Now we need to find emergency placement until we work out a long-term plan.” Apparently knowing Hannah pretty well herself, she lifted her hand to forestall the argument every adult in the room knew would be coming. “I attempted to reach Mrs. Hayes, but apparently her phone is either off or she isn’t answering. And, before it comes up, I do realize that you don’t want to be separated from your sister.”

  “Mrs. Hayes got a new job working at the casino on the coast. And I refuse to be separated,” Hannah corrected. Gabe exchanged a glance with Chelsea that told him that once again they were thinking the same thing. That not only was Hannah intensely loyal to her younger sister, it was a shame that she needed to be the caretaker at such a young age.

  “Well, the bad news is that we don’t have any licensed homes that can take in two children at the moment. However,” she pressed on before the girl could state her refusal yet again. “Fortunately, having foreseen the problem of limited foster homes, the state allows, in the event of a sudden unavailability of a child’s primary caretaker, that emergency placement in the home of a private individual can be granted. Which includes neighbors, friends, relatives or an individual the child or, in this case, children feel comfortable with.”

  “Ms. Prescott’s okay,” Hannah said. “She brings us treats in the library, makes sure Hailey drinks her milk and drives us home in the afternoon.”

  “I can vouch for her,” Aiden said. “She’s good friends with Brianna, and Lillian Henderson would definitely give her a recommendation.”

  “Well, then, it seems we have our solution. I can temporarily place you with Ms. Prescott until further arrangements can be made.” She turned toward Chelsea, appearing unfazed by her lack of shoes. “There’ll be both a state and national criminal check, and you’ll need to be fingerprinted within fifteen days or the placement will be rescinded.”

  “I was fingerprinted when the town council hired me to take over Mrs. Henderson’s job as librarian,” Chelsea said. “Also when I received my TSA Precheck. But I have no problem with having it done again.”

  “Fine. They’ll be in the national database, so there’s no need to repeat the process.”

  “As for placement, that gets a little complicated,” Chelsea admitted.

  She went on to explain about her landlady’s no-children policy, to which Mrs. Douglas in turn informed her such a policy wasn’t legal. To which Hannah jumped in and said that she and her sister didn’t want to be anywhere they weren’t wanted.

  Which was when Gabe repeated what he’d said earlier about the house and the separate wings, and that he and Chelsea Prescott were merely friends who were working together on a book program for the county’s children and a reading adventurer visit to his boat shop. And he’d also stated that he’d been fingerprinted for both his TSA Nexus and securities license.

  As Mrs. Douglas appeared to be considering that latest twist, Aiden assured her that he, as well as both his parents, would of course back up Gabe’s sterling reputation. Which, thankfully, the former substitute teacher remembered.

  “You’re only here for the summer, correct?” she asked him.

  “Yes, Mrs. Douglas,” he responded in his most polite tone.

  “We’re both adults now,” she said. “You can call me Adele.”

  Gabe considered that. “I’m sorry. But I think you’ll always be Mrs. Douglas to me.”

  She sighed and half rolled her eyes. “You’ve no idea how often I’ve heard that. Sometimes I think that when I retired from teaching I should have moved to Port Townsend. Or Gig Harbor. Anyplace where kids I’d taught didn’t live. At any rate, I’m sure we’ll find a more permanent solution before Labor Day.”

  She turned back to Chelsea. “My granddaughter is one of your reading adventurers. Meggie Lancaster.”

  “I know. She’s told me she’s most looking forward to seeing the Whistler mural at Herons Landing.”

  “She wants...no, make that intends, to be an artist when she grows up. She decided that life goal when she went to SAM on a school field trip in kindergarten. She loves the Family Fun Workshops. I swear, I believe if her family and the museum would let her, she’d pack up her sleeping bag and move in.”

  The Seattle Arts Museum was the premier center for the arts in the Pacific Northwest. Gabe’s mother had often dragged them up there a few times a year for various exhibits. All he remembe
red was being captivated in the eighth grade by a huge, fifty-four by forty-one inch painting of numbers 0 to 9 all superimposed over each other in different-colored bold sweeping brushstrokes. His parents had bought him a print of the Jasper Johns painting for Christmas. A print he’d carried with him to UW and Columbia and was now hanging on the wall of his Manhattan apartment.

  That little exchange of chitchat over with, Mrs. Douglas got down to business again. “Are you and Gabriel dating? I only ask because I need to know the dynamics in the house.”

  Gabe guessed she wouldn’t be asking that if he were Chelsea’s husband.

  “As Gabriel said, we’re working on those projects together,” Chelsea hedged. It wasn’t technically a lie. They had discussed business.

  “There’s a housekeeper’s cottage on the property,” Gabe said. “Since I don’t have a housekeeper, I can stay there while the girls are in the house.”

  “That sounds appropriate enough. Well, then.” She glanced down at her watch. “Since it’s not getting any earlier, even though the girls don’t have school tomorrow, they’ve obviously had an eventful day. So, I’ll get the paperwork and one of the extra booster seats I keep in the trunk, just in case of emergencies like this, and we’ll make things official so they can get to bed.”

  She turned toward Gabriel after the paperwork was signed, sealed and back in the woman’s portfolio. “I forgot to mention, we’re going to need a home visit to assess the situation.” She opened the calendar on her phone. “I need to complete it within thirty days.”

  “We’ll make any date work,” Chelsea assured her.

  “No problem,” Gabe said at the same time, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with two young girls in the house for possibly a month. Brianna’s tea parties had been a very long time ago. First things first. They needed to get the girls to the cabin and into bed.

  They all watched her drive away.

  “Hannah,” Chelsea said, “why don’t we go over to the house and pack up some things for you and Hailey?”

 

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