A Wish Upon a Star

by Jeannie Levig

  Erica laughed. “Mrs. Kravitz. And I am not her.”

  “That’s right. Gladys Kravitz.” Leslie nodded, remembering how much she loved the show—but not because of Gladys Kravitz. It was that sexy witch cousin she always waited to see.

  “You were in the middle of your front yard. Anybody could see you.” Erica was still talking.

  “Okay, Gladys.” Leslie stood, chuckling. “Whatever you say.” She was struck by how natural the banter felt between them. A warning bell rang in the back of her mind. No, this isn’t like Cassie. My eyes are wide open.

  Erica rose with a huff and started collecting the cups. “Keep the bagels and cream cheese, too, in case you don’t get to the grocery store today either. At least you’ll have something for breakfast tomorrow.”

  Leslie had no intention of arguing. “Thank you. That’s very nice, especially after I just called you nosy.”

  In the kitchen, Leslie rinsed off the dishes while Erica set the food in the refrigerator, then made her way around the bar toward the back door. “If you need anything else, you know you can just come over and ask, right?”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that. Do me a favor?” Leslie nodded to a notebook on the bar. “Add dishes to that long list.”

  “Sure.” Erica picked up the pen beside the tablet and wrote on the top of the page. She studied the list. “Animal shelter?” She looked up at Leslie.

  Leslie drew in a breath. “Oh. Yeah. That’s for tomorrow when they open.”

  Erica frowned. “For Gus?”

  “It was, but I’m having second thoughts.” Leslie set the cups in the sink to dry. “I don’t really need a dog, but he’s so…I don’t know.” She thought of how good he was with Siena, how concerned he’d been the night before when Siena had her problem, how she couldn’t keep him downstairs after Erica had taken Siena up to her room, presumably. But then, when he’d finally come down, he didn’t hesitate to follow Leslie home and had curled up right beside her on the sleeping bag, rested his head on her arm, and hadn’t moved until this morning. Even in the car, when he’d been so dirty and smelly, his presence had given her so much comfort. He was good company. “I’m thinking about keeping him.”

  The biggest smile Leslie had seen from Erica so far bloomed on her lips and in her eyes. “I knew you would.”

  “You did, did you? Well, I haven’t fully decided yet, so don’t blow it.” Leslie tried to sound gruff, but she’d never been able to pull that off.

  “We’ll be home today, if you’d like to leave your dog with us while you’re out shopping.” Erica’s tone was playful, but her offer was clearly sincere. “Siena would love it.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that.” Leslie grinned. “Gus will love it, too.”

  “See you later.” Erica started to turn but stopped as her gaze landed on something on the bar.

  Shit! Leslie had forgotten about Nell’s business card. She’d found it yesterday morning when she’d gotten up, and the note Nell had left on the back that…Shit…Erica was now reading.

  “There’s a nice piece next door?” Erica read it as a question, but Leslie knew it wasn’t written that way. “I’m thinking happy hour and a couple drinks? You should tap that? It’d be good for you.” She looked at Leslie and arched an eyebrow.

  “I am so sorry.” Leslie held up her hands. “That’s not me. It’s my cousin, Nell. She was working with the management company on the painting and carpeting, so she’s been in and out,” Leslie added, as though that mattered.

  “That’s a very disrespectful way to talk about Mr. Billings,” Erica said, referring to Leslie’s neighbor on the other side.

  He’d lived there since before Leslie and her parents had moved in when Leslie was eight. He was now seventy-five.

  “And I doubt the new Mrs. Billings would appreciate her husband being tapped.”

  Leslie couldn’t even imagine. “I’m sure not,” she said, contrite but playing along.

  Erica shot her a humor-filled glare, then flipped Nell’s business card over between her fingers and read from the other side. “Nell Raymond. Director of the Raymond Children’s Center?” She looked at Leslie. “You’re that Raymond?”

  “Well…no. My mother was that Raymond.” Leslie scanned the kitchen for a dishtowel, then remembered she didn’t have one. She shook her hands over the sink. “She was a family court judge here years ago and saw a real need for a place for kids who were taken from their parents due to abuse and neglect until they could be placed with a relative or in a stable foster home. So she raised the funding and opened the center.”

  “I’ve heard the stories.” Erica sounded awestruck. “She was quite a woman.”

  The love and admiration Leslie held for her mom swelled in her heart. “Yes, she was.”

  “And she lived here?” Erica surveyed the surroundings as though she were on a tour of Susan B. Anthony’s home. “One of the women in my support group is affiliated with the center and has told me quite a bit about it.” Her focus landed on Leslie again. “I’m impressed.”

  Leslie smiled. “Be impressed with my mom, not with me.”

  Something passed through Erica’s eyes that Leslie couldn’t name. “Actually, I’m impressed with both.” She laid the card on the bar and started to leave but turned in the doorway. “Oh, and please tell Cousin Nell it would take a lot more than a couple of happy hour drinks to tap this.” She glided her fingertips down her sides and cocked her hip.

  What might it take? Leslie cleared her throat. “I’ll be sure to let her know.”

  Erica turned and sauntered out.

  Leslie followed her to the doorway and let Erica get to the edge of the deck. “Oh, and, Erica?”

  Erica stopped and faced her.

  “Please tell your friend…Becky, is it? I don’t strut.”

  Erica’s eyes went wide, and her cheeks flamed. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

  “And I’m not a pool girl.” Leslie ran one hand up the doorjamb in a sultry motion and stroked her thigh with the other. “I prefer to be called a cabana goddess.”

  Erica burst out laughing and buried her face in her hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  Leslie laughed as she returned to her customary stance.

  When Erica finally regained her composure, she lifted her head and looked directly at Leslie. “I’ll pass that on.” She turned and walked down the steps.

  “One more thing?” Leslie made an effort to sound innocent.

  Erica looked over her shoulder.

  “Your daughter wants to know what a porno movie is,” Leslie said in a loud whisper.

  Erica squeezed her eyes shut. “Thanks,” she said, drawing out the word.

  Leslie tried to ignore the sway of Erica’s hips as she made her way to the gate, and tried not to smile at the image lingering in her mind of Erica’s raging blush. She tried not to panic over having a child once again in her life and heart, one that could be taken away as suddenly as she’d appeared, just like Elijah. And she couldn’t fathom how she’d ended up with a dog she never knew she wanted. For the moment, though, it all felt good. She’d spent the past year alone, missing her previous life, and this was a nice change.

  She’d need to be more careful this time around, but she already knew, short of selling this house and moving somewhere else, she wasn’t going to have a choice but to care about this little group she’d found.

  She already did.

  Chapter Four

  Erica yanked the trashcan out from under the sink and pulled it over to the spice cabinet. She could kick herself. I was blatantly flirting with her. What is wrong with me? What had her words to Becky been? I can’t get involved with someone who lives next door. I can’t sleep with her. And wasn’t at least one of those things the whole point of flirting?

  She opened the cupboard and pulled out the bottles of seasonings and herbs she’d bought recently and began digging out ones from the back that needed to be tossed.

  Ever since she’d b
egun a teaching schedule in which she had a month off between the summer session and the beginning of fall semester, she’d committed to using this time for a spring house cleaning as well as for some much appreciated relaxation at home. Siena spent the weekdays during the summer in a day program, so Erica enjoyed the time to herself. If she could get her kitchen cabinets cleaned out today while Siena was home, she’d have several long, luxurious days of reading and napping in the backyard hammock, soaks in the tub, and some catch-up time with her Netflix list. She’d already been off for two weeks and had thoroughly cleaned the house, but there were still some cupboards and closets to get through. And taking out her frustration with herself, by literally throwing old containers into the trashcan, seemed like the perfect way to get another job done.

  She chucked an old jar of oregano with an extra umph, then reached for the next one. It’ll take more than a couple of happy hour drinks to tap this. Had she really said that? How ridiculous could she sound? I’m not in my twenties anymore. Or even my thirties. But wait. A woman could still flirt in her fifties, just not with someone she couldn’t possibly be more than friends with—especially when she was truly attracted to her. The shattering of glass as one bottle crashed into another in the trashcan broke the rhythm of her mental rant.

  “Why are you breaking things?” Siena asked from the doorway.

  Erica stilled and took a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It was an accident.” It was, at least the breaking part. “I just got a little mad over something I was thinking about.” She was always as honest as she could be about her emotions with Siena in hopes it would help Siena learn to identify and communicate her own.

  “Sometimes, I want to break things, too,” Siena said, her gaze drifting slightly. “Like when kids make fun of me at school. But Mrs. Archer says breaking things doesn’t solve anything and will just get me in trouble.” Mrs. Archer had been her first grade teacher the previous year and had been wonderful.

  “Mrs. Archer is absolutely right. It doesn’t solve anything,” Erica said. Nor does it erase that moment when I made a fool of myself. She allowed Siena’s words to distract her from her own frustrations. It pained her that, in addition to everything else Siena faced every day, she also had to deal with the ignorance and cruelty of other kids. She softened. “Want to help me reorganize the cupboards?” Siena loved lining things up in an orderly sequence that made perfect sense to her.

  “No, thank you. I want to…” Siena shifted her stance uneasily and glanced behind her into the family room. “I want to watch Tangled, but…” She pressed her lips together in a firm line, a signal that she was thinking hard about something.

  “Your puzzle?” Erica had been waiting throughout the morning to see what Siena might want to do with her ruined project.

  Siena gave a tight nod. “I want it to go away.”

  Erica wished, as she frequently did in moments like these, she could scoop her little girl into her arms and give her a hug, but those kinds of gestures needed to be Siena’s idea. To have physical contact forced on her increased her distress and sometimes sent her over the edge. The best way to comfort her was simply to do what she’d asked. Erica smiled. “I can make that happen. Do you want me to put it back in the box? Or do you want me to throw it away?” She knew either one would be hard for Siena. Having a project around that she couldn’t finish was like…Erica didn’t know. She’d tried so many times to imagine what it must be like for Siena to live life with all of her anxieties and stresses, but she knew she never came close to fully understanding. All she could do was listen when Siena was able to tell her what she was feeling and do what she said would help her.

  Siena hesitated, her little body tightening in on itself. “Throw it away,” she said finally.

  Erica pulled a new trash bag from the box under the sink and crossed to where Siena stood. She squatted in front of her, putting herself directly in Siena’s line of sight. “I’ll take care of it, sweetie. Why don’t you and Gus play outside another few minutes, and I’ll call you when I’m finished.” She glanced at the dog where he’d been sitting right beside Siena throughout the conversation, then scratched him under his chin. She hoped Leslie would decide to keep him.

  Once all remnants of the ruined puzzle had been disposed of so Siena could forget all about it—if, in fact, she truly forgot these things—and she was settled in with her movie, Erica went back to work in the kitchen. With her own frustrations left behind and her renewed commitment to behave appropriately with her neighbor, she made short work of emptying and scrubbing out the rest of the cupboards, then neatly replacing all their contents. When she checked the time, she was shocked to find the afternoon gone. She needed to start thinking about dinner. Before she could form a thought, though, a knock sounded at the back door.

  “Hello?” Leslie called through the screen.

  In the several steps it took Erica to make her way from the kitchen, Gus was already at the door, dancing around on his hind legs.

  Leslie stood on the patio, a large white plastic bag and a red and white Kentucky Fried Chicken bag suspended from the finger of one hand and a fast food sack in the other. “Hey,” she said with a smile. “Was he a good boy today?” She made a kissy face at Gus through the screen.

  “The perfect houseguest,” Erica said, sliding open the door. “What’s all this?”

  Leslie lifted the bags. “You’ve fed me twice. I figured it was my turn. I brought dinner.”

  Erica stared, then laughed. “For how many?”

  “I didn’t know what either of you like, so I got several choices.” Leslie cocked her head. “Have you eaten?”

  “No. In fact, I was just starting to think about it. This is a nice surprise. Thank you.” Erica motioned to the patio table. “Why don’t you set everything there, and I’ll get some plates and silverware.” When she returned with a tray holding the dishes and utensils, along with some drinks and condiments, she found Siena perched in one of the chairs eyeing the bags curiously.

  “What’s in there?” Siena asked Leslie, pointing at the large white one.

  “That’s Chinese food from my absolute favorite restaurant from my childhood,” Leslie said, lifting a takeout box from within and setting it on the table. “Pot stickers, egg rolls, vegetable and plain fried rice—in case you don’t like the veggies—walnut shrimp, and orange chicken.” She placed the last container on the table with a flourish.

  “Orange is my favorite color,” Siena said excitedly.

  Erica watched, intrigued. Siena normally ate many of the same foods, day in and day out, and usually acted suspicious on the rare occasion Erica introduced something new. Maybe the difference tonight was all the choices. Or maybe it was Leslie.

  “Then you’ll definitely want to try the orange chicken.” Leslie reached for the KFC bag.

  Leslie was fun, and she’d come with fun things—a dog and toys. She’d let Siena water that dry spot she’d been obsessed with. And now, a surprise dinner. Even her presentation was fun.

  “And here we have fried chicken, potato wedges, mac and cheese…I know you like that.” Leslie waggled her eyebrows, then continued unpacking the second bag. “And mashed potatoes and gravy and corn on the cob.”

  Siena scrambled onto her knees in the chair, as though she couldn’t stay seated a second longer. “I love corn on the cob.” Her pitch was high.

  Erica couldn’t help but laugh. She set the tray on the table. “Or rather, she loves anything she can slather butter all over.”

  Leslie met Erica’s gaze with a soft smile.

  “What’s that?” Siena asked, ignoring Erica’s comment.

  “Here we have your basic burgers and fries,” Leslie said, turning the third bag around.

  Siena went pale. “Noooo,” she said, shaking her head. She began to rock, her eyes wide.

  Erica followed her stare and saw the Wendy’s logo. “Siena,” she said calmly but firmly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to eat it.” />
  Siena stilled slightly.

  Gus lifted his front paws to her thigh and licked the back of her hand that tightly gripped the armrest of the chair.

  She pulled her gaze from the bag and looked at him.

  Erica waited. She wanted to give Siena the chance to handle herself, and Gus was helping.

  Siena watched as Gus’s tongue flicked out over her skin several more times.

  He looked up at her.

  Siena took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Winnie the Pooh. Piglet. Eeyore, Tigger,” she whispered. “Kanga and Roo…” She slipped from the chair and walked out to the corner of the yard where she went sometimes to think.

  Gus, of course, trotted alongside her.

  Erica relaxed some but stayed vigilant.

  “I’m sorry. What did I do?” Leslie’s voice was shaky.

  “It’s all right,” Erica said, still watching Siena. “I think she managed to catch herself. She did so great.” Pride and admiration at Siena’s accomplishment brought a thin veneer of moisture to her eyes. She returned her attention to Leslie and found her almost as white as Siena. “It’s okay. Really.”

  “But what happened?” Leslie asked.

  Erica shook her head. “It’s the Wendy’s hamburgers. She doesn’t like it that the patties are square but the bun is round.” Erica flashed back to when Siena was four and had lost it in the restaurant because of the pointy things poking out. “She’s afraid of the corners that stick out from the bun.”

  Leslie pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead and dropped into a chair. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s really okay,” Erica said, touching Leslie’s shoulder to reassure her. “You had no way of knowing. Besides, it gave Siena the opportunity to use one of her replacement behaviors and gave her a success. I’m impressed.”

  Leslie sighed and looked up at her. “Is that what the Winnie the Pooh characters were? A replacement behavior?”

  “Yes. It gives her something else to focus on. Plus, she likes them. They calm her,” Erica said.