He stepped back from the counter and took it…but it fell right through his hands with a thunderous crash of broken china. “Shit!”
Daisy’s eyes widened. “I’m going to tell on you! That’s a bad word!”
Before he could reply, he heard Mom cry out Daisy’s name, and the sound of someone coming down the hall.
“I gotta go!”
It wasn’t time yet. He hadn’t remembered what he was supposed to tell his mom.
“But, the pamcakes!” Daisy protested.
“I gotta go!”
The last thing he saw as he let himself slip back into the darkness was Daisy clambering up on the stool and reaching for the syrup. Then he was back in the black.
Chapter 11
The alarm went off far too early the next morning, filling the bedroom with bubblegum rock and booting her out of a lovely dream where she and Ethan finally took the kids to Disneyland. It had been on their to-do list…
Brenda scowled at the cheerful red display, but it didn’t back down. She took out her frustration by bashing the off button with her fist then rolled over to wake up Daisy—a notoriously heavy sleeper.
The little girl was gone.
Brenda bolted upright in bed, her heart thundering in her chest. “Daisy…?”
There was a loud crash from the direction of the kitchen.
“Daisy!”
Throwing back the bedclothes, Brenda started out of bed. Her foot tangled in the sheet, and she almost pitched to the floor, but she caught herself on the corner of the bedside table, which dug painfully into her palm.
“Daisy, answer me!” She hated the panic in her voice. She would scare the little girl if she wasn’t careful.
“I’m in the kitchen, Mama,” Daisy yelled cheerfully. “I’m making you breakfast.”
Some of the terror drained away…to be replaced by a rueful acceptance. Daisy’s ideas of proper breakfast food seldom meshed with her own.
Extricating her foot from the tangled sheet, Brenda grabbed her robe and hurried to the kitchen. The scene there stopped her in the doorway, staring.
Daisy stood on tiptoe on the step-stool, reaching out at a precarious angle for the pancake syrup kept in the cabinet beside the stove. A carton of eggs rested on the counter beside the child, and a milky measuring cup was tipped on its side, dripping residue onto the tile floor. Bits of a broken plate littered the space under the stool, and there were floury handprints everywhere.
“Daisy, honey,” Brenda focused on keeping her tone even and controlled. “What are you doing?”
“Making you pamcakes, Mama.”
It registered on Brenda’s dazed senses that there was a scorched stench to the air, and she stepped forward to click off the stove and remove her best skillet from the electric burner. The mess at the bottom was charcoal black.
“Daisy, what has Mama told you about the stove?”
Daisy’s lip trembled. “It was a surprise.” Tears welled.
Only an ogre would scold at a time like this.
“I know you were trying to do something nice, baby. What a big girl you’re getting to be. Thank you for the thought.”
She gathered the little girl into her arms, kissing the top of Daisy’s head. “Tell you what. Let’s you and I go get some real pamcakes.”
Tears forgotten, Daisy squealed. “With strawberries?”
“Whatever you like. But first, we have to hurry and get dressed because if we don’t, you will be running late for school and we won’t have time.”
“Okay, Mama.” Daisy started to hop off the stool.
“Whoopsie, Daisy—let me carry you to the hall, baby. I don’t want you to step on that broken plate.”
“Sorry about the plate, Mama. Robbie dropped it.”
Brenda froze.
“Daisy, honey, you know that isn’t true.”
“Yes, it is, Mama! I told him to hold it just for a minute, and ke-rash.” She stuck her tongue out. “He is such a clutch.”
“Klutz,” Brenda whispered.
The words were so matter-of-fact. The child’s chipper acceptance of what she was saying chilled Brenda to the bone.
Perhaps she should ask Elise Fairbanks for the name of a good child psychologist when she went to her session this morning. I thought Daisy was doing so well, but these last few days have seen such a regression…
“Pamcakes, Mama?” Daisy prompted impatiently.
“Sure…sure, baby.” She set the child down in the safety of the hallway. “Now you run along and get ready. Wear that green dress we talked about last night. And don’t forget to brush your hair. Now scoot!”
As soon as Daisy was out of sight, Brenda began cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. She should be dressing herself, but she’d just throw on sweats. Who cared what she looked like? She sure wasn’t dressing to impress these days.
She returned the eggs to the refrigerator, making a mental note to add them to the grocery list. Daisy had apparently used at least half a dozen. And there was less than a quarter carton of milk left when she checked.
She sighed as she wiped the spilled milk off the tile. Wasting food was becoming a habit…and it would have to stop. So would going out to eat every time Daisy got upset. There would have to be an end to that too. The insurance money needed to last as long as possible.
Straightening, she tossed the soggy paper towel in the trash and surveyed the remainder of the kitchen, hands on hips. She couldn’t stomach leaving all this flour everywhere. How did Daisy get it open, anyway? It’s difficult enough for me to open. There’s no way that little girl could have gotten the lid off on her own…
She shook her head. What other explanation was there?
Pulling the broom out of the pantry, Brenda swept the broken plate into the dustpan and dumped it into the trash. It had been one of her favorites, from the bright yellow casual china that was a wedding gift from Ethan’s grandmother. Losing it broke the fourth place setting. They wouldn’t be able to—
—and we don’t need to. Another one of those moments that drove home the loss with a sledgehammer.
“Almost ready, baby?” she called to Daisy.
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay. Mama is going to change, and I’ll be right with you.” The kitchen would have to wait after all.
She had started for the hallway when something registered in her peripheral vision. Frowning, she turned to the counter. The floury handprints were everywhere…and there were definitely two sizes of prints.
Chapter 12
“It was the oddest sensation. I mean, I know there has to be a logical explanation for what I thought I saw, but I haven’t a clue what it is.” Brenda curled her bare feet up beneath her on the couch. It was one of the things she liked best about Elise Fairbanks’ office—the informality of it. “I snapped a picture with my phone, but it doesn’t have great resolution. I can’t tell if I was right or not.”
She felt safe and comfortable here with Elise. She had balked at the idea of a therapist when her father had first suggested it, but now she thought of these weekly sessions as an oasis in the chaos of her day-to-day scrambling. And as long as the insurance continued to cover them, it seemed like money well spent.
“Did these handprints frighten you, Brenda?”
A smile tugged the corner of Brenda’s lips. Mad, Sad, Glad, or Scared: the therapist mantra.
According to Elise, all human emotion could be grouped under one of these four archetypical categories. At first, she’d thought the notion simplistic, but in the last year, she had come to understand and support the belief. Breaking things down to their core level like that made them easier to handle and accept.
“In a way…I guess it was the inexplicable nature of the thing. I mean, I know Daisy was alone in the kitchen—I don’t think for a moment that someone snuck into the house—but some of those prints were at least half-again as large as the ones she made. What do you think?” She pulled the phone from her purse and handed it to Elise
with the picture in the display.
“I can’t see any difference myself, but you are right about the resolution.” The therapist handed back the phone.
Brenda shook her head. “Just weird.”
“What do you plan on doing about it?”
“Well, I had a disposable camera in the junk drawer, and I took some photos with that before I cleaned up. I’m hoping they might be a little clearer. I dropped the camera off at the supermarket on the way over. I know non-digital is rather anachronistic these days, but it was all I had, since the phone camera wasn’t doing the job.
“I thought I would show them to Officer Sanchez and see—”
“Is this the policeman you spoke of?”
Brenda felt a rush of warmth to her cheeks, as if her grandmother was questioning her about a new beau. “Yes.”
Dr. Fairbanks’ eyes twinkled and she leaned forward in her chair. “Now that is a most intriguing reaction. I ask about your policeman, and you blush like a schoolgirl. He interests you, this young man?”
“I don’t know if I would say that, Elise. I just met him last night. And he was just doing his job. The circumstances were hardly social. But he does seem like a very nice man…”
“Nothing wrong with acknowledging an attraction, my girl. Even if you never act on it. Even if you never see this man again. Do you understand what this means, Brenda?”
The therapist reached over and patted Brenda on the knee. “This is the first time in all our work together that you have talked about any man except Ethan with more than a passing reference. This is a big step forward for you—a very important step. You are beginning to move on with your life, Brenda, and that is a natural thing, a healthy thing.”
Brenda twisted her fingers together in her lap. Then why do I feel like I am betraying Ethan?
“You think so?” she said aloud. “I really do miss Ethan with all my heart…but I feel so alone.”
“And that makes you feel…?”
“Sad,” Brenda groaned, rolling her eyes.
“Good girl.” Dr. Fairbanks settled back in her chair. “Now, what about this dog idea?”
By the time Brenda picked up Daisy from school, she was looking forward to the trip to the pet store. Talking it over with Dr. Fairbanks and a quick call to her parents had convinced her that a puppy was just what Daisy needed. The thought of a little warm bundle of life in the house made Brenda realize she needed it just as much as her daughter did.
The little girl bounded out to the car and tossed her backpack in the rear seat. Brenda helped the child strap into her car seat. “Did you have a good day at school?”
“Yep.” Daisy nodded vigorously. “Tomorrow is the trip to the field, Mama. Don’t forget.”
It took a second to decipher the comment as a reminder about the Museum Field Trip the next day. “I promise I won’t forget, Daisy. I’m going to come with you. Won’t that be fun?”
“Sure.” A dazzling smile was her reward. “Now we’re getting a puppy?”
Brenda laughed. “That’s right, honey. What kind of puppy do you want?”
Daisy cocked her head in that odd new gesture. “Something little and fuzzy…but Robbie wants something with a lot of teeth.”
Swallowing hard, Brenda pretended to think about it. Dr. Fairbanks had told her this behavior was fairly common in a child who had lost a sibling—sort of a variation on the invisible playmate. Better to humor her for a few days and see if it doesn’t clear up on its own.
“Well, something cute and fuzzy might not have all its teeth yet. Let’s wait and see what they have at the store.”
She pulled the station wagon into the parking lot outside the big chain pet store. She would rather have gone to a little Mom-and-Pop, but a few calls around town had indicated it was a slow time for litters. Everyone she talked to recommended checking the chain, so here they were. She had been assured that there was an adoption event this afternoon, and she should have a fair number of puppies to choose from. It was either this or the shelter—but that would only lead to a stop here for food and accessories anyway, so she hoped to kill two birds with one stone.
Helping Daisy out of the car, she led the little girl into the warehouse-style building. It was one of the retail models referred to as a Big Box design—square, squat, and ugly. But beyond the doors was a swirl of color and sound that took her breath away. Aisles stretched as far as she could see, filled with gourmet pet food, chew toys, and—for God’s sake—designer dog clothing. The twitter of birds, barking of dogs, and squeaks of rodent wheels turning cascaded around her. There was a not unpleasant odor to the air Brenda couldn’t quite put a name to.
“Mama, look!” Daisy tugged at her hand, pointing to a cage of brightly plumed birds in the center of the store. “Aren’t they pretty? Can we go see?”
Laughing, Brenda let herself be dragged forward. “We can look, baby, but no birds. They are way too messy for our house.”
“I just want to see. Oh! Look there!” A cage of ferrets diverted Daisy’s attention from the birds. “What are those?”
Brenda knelt before the ferret cage, resting Daisy on her knee. “Those are called ferrets. Aren’t they funny looking?”
“They are so long and slinky. And they stink.” Daisy’s little nose wrinkled.
“Yes, they do. So, no ferrets either.”
A sharp bark rang out through the store, and Daisy’s head went up. “My puppy! Mama, my puppy is calling me.”
“Well then, let’s go meet him.”
They walked back to the wall of glass-fronted cubicles where the dogs and cats up for adoption were kept. Daisy made a beeline for the cage where a shaggy white spaniel scrabbled against the glass, whining and barking.
“My puppy, Mama. My puppy!” The little girl was almost shrieking with excitement.
A teenager in a red store polo shirt came around the corner of the glass wall. His name tag read Paul. “He sure seems taken with you,” the boy said, tousling Daisy’s curls.
Normally, the child would have complained about such treatment, but now, she pressed her nose to the glass of the cage and made cooing noises at the puppy, which licked the glass in return.
Brenda glanced at the tag beside the cage and winced. My name is ____________ read the card; I’m ready for adoption. I want to go home with you. I’ve had my shots and I’m neutered. It is only $90 to adopt me.
Brenda looked at the other cages. All of them had similar tags, but this puppy was the only one who didn’t have a name written in black marker in the blank. “Why isn’t this one named, Paul?”
The attendant shrugged. “Beats me. They usually come in with one, but sometimes we have to make them up. This one just came in this morning. Guess they haven’t got around to naming it yet.”
“My puppy wants to go home now,” Daisy announced. “We have things to do.”
Brenda sighed. Ninety bucks was a lot for a dog, but at least he’d had all his shots, and he was already neutered. “We’ll take him,” she told Paul. “What else will we need?”
With Paul’s help, they gathered up a sack of dog food, a rawhide bone, and a cushioned dog bed to go with the puppy. He assured them that all of this was essential equipment for making the dog feel at home.
“And you’ll need a carrier for him. Makes it easier to get to the vet and such.”
“I’m gonna be carrying him,” Daisy said firmly.
Paul squatted in front of her. “Sometimes it might be better to have his own little house to move around in. Makes him feel more comfortable.”
Daisy thought about it, head cocked. “Okay,” she acceded at last. “If it’ll make Bones happy.”
Brenda was reaching up for a carrier when Daisy spoke. Her hands froze in mid-air. “What did you say, honey?”
“If Bones’ll be happy in the little house, Mama, we should get one.”
“That’s a funny name for a puppy, kiddo,” said Paul, tousling her curls again.
Daisy jerked her head
away with a haughty sniff. “It doesn’t matter if you like it or not. You won’t be seeing him again, so what do you care?”
“Daisy! Don’t be rude.”
Paul stood up with a strained smile.
“Don’t worry about it, ma’am. She’s just excited about the puppy. I understand completely. I’ll go bring…Bones…around for you.”
Brenda shuddered. What is Daisy’s newfound fondness for bones about?
Maybe she could talk the child out of the name logically. Surely the constant reinforcement of calling the dog ‘Bones’ wouldn’t be a good thing.
They trailed Paul back to the cages. Daisy danced impatiently from foot to foot as the boy disappeared into the Employee’s Only area.
A soft mewling caught Brenda’s attention, and she looked down. The lower tier of cubicles to her left held cats, and a little black and white kitten was standing at the front of its cage staring up at her. It mewed again. She bent down to look more closely.
The tag on the kitten’s pen read: My name is Mask. I want to go home with you. I’ve had my shots and I’m spayed. It’s only $50 to adopt me.
Oh, what the hell? Brenda thought. In for a penny, in for a pound.
It would be nice to have a cat around the house.
She saw Paul reaching for Bones, and tapped on the glass to get his attention. She pointed to Mask, and he nodded.
Daisy looked over at the kitten and turned up her nose. “I hope Bones doesn’t eat it,” she commented matter-of-factly. “He’s got lots of teeth.” She smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
Chapter 13
Bones proved to be a whiny puppy, and it took three trips to the Internet before Brenda found enough tricks to get him to sleep long enough for Daisy to drift off. Mask, on the other hand, curled up in the pocket of Brenda’s sweater and was a little purring ball in seconds.
She stuck her hand in the pocket and stroked the kitten’s soft fur. It rewarded her with a sleepy mew, and a lick on her hand, then went back to sleep. What a dear little creature, she thought with a smile.
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