by Floyd, Susan
“Dana, if you don’t mind, I’ve given up on this particular problem. I don’t know why he’d need money enough to do what he did.”
“Don’t you think you can figure it out? Isn’t that your job? Don’t you think that Carson deserves that?”
“He’s in prison, he doesn’t deserve much.”
Dana recoiled from the contempt in his voice. “You can’t believe that.”
The look he gave her was very different from any other she’d seen in the past two days. The coldness was shocking. This was a man who didn’t forgive easily—or maybe at all.
“You have no idea what I believe.”
Dana closed her mouth. The conversation was over. Brady had settled back down on the couch to stare intently at a penguin waddling across an ice floe. She stretched her lips into a feeble smile. “I guess I’ll take my stuff and go to bed.” She stood to leave and as she turned, he put his hand on her arm.
“I’m sorry, Dana,” Brady said, his voice quiet. “You just pushed a couple of buttons. You haven’t said anything I haven’t spent the past five years going over and over in my mind. It’s no excuse for snapping at you.”
“You didn’t snap. And it’s really none of my business.” She was having difficulty ignoring the feel of his thumb as it rubbed against her pulse.
He gave her a ghost of a smile. “I think those three little girls make it your business. And you’re probably right about Carson, but I can’t deal with it now. I just want to get married and get custody of the girls.”
Dana stayed silent, more uncertain about Brady than she’d been since she’d met him. She’d glimpsed that he was forward moving, come hell or high water, but he also was unforgiving. That bothered her.
She removed her hand from his and said softly, “Good night.”
THE NEXT DAY after breakfast, Dana and the girls walked over to the school, the mood sober. Dana met the parents of her other students and they all asked in hushed tones if what they’d heard was true. Dana gave them only the briefest amount of information, assuring the parents that the girls were fine and that school would continue. She didn’t tell them about her upcoming wedding, though.
It was a rough day. If her other students noticed how tired she was, they didn’t comment. Dana hadn’t been able to sleep after her discussion with Brady. After a half hour of tossing and turning, she got up, pulled on her robe and tried to focus her blurry eyes on the papers she needed to grade.
She’d finished all her papers and then started on her lesson plans. As dawn started to break, she was putting the final touches on the last lesson. It had been too late to sleep, too early to get up, so Dana had just lain there, looking for some sort of sign that she was doing the right thing. When Ollie and Jean had crept into her room, climbed into her bed and snuggled against her, she’d known she couldn’t deny these girls a home.
Now it was the end of the long and arduous day. The older children were reading aloud, giving Dana the opportunity to observe the Moore girls. Ollie and Jean seemed to have returned to themselves. But Karen, usually a diligent student, hadn’t been able to concentrate all day. Instead of following along in her book, Karen was staring outside, her young face pinched. Dana wondered if she should have given them the week off. On the other hand, if Karen wasn’t here, she’d probably be brooding in bed.
The sound of tires crunching on the gravel came from the courtyard. Dana marked the spot in her book and said, “Okay, guys. You can go get your backpacks. Fifth grade—you have a test in English tomorrow. Third, second and first grades—you have spelling.”
The kids nodded and started gathering their things.
When they were finished, they put their chairs up on their desks and ran outside to wait for their parents. Dana followed them out noting at once that Karen had perched on top of the picnic table. One by one, the parents claimed their children. As Dana discussed homework or student progress, she was upset to see Ollie and Jean had joined Karen. It was as if they were still expecting to see their mother’s car. Fifteen minutes passed before the last parent left and the school grounds became quiet.
Dana sighed and glanced at her watch. How long should she let them wait before reminding them that their mother was dead? She walked over to the table.
“Hey, there,” she greeted them.
Karen didn’t look up, but Ollie smiled at her and gave a small wave of her fingers.
Dana waved back and tilted her head. “How are you doing?”
“Okay,” was Karen’s muffled answer.
Dana sat down on the bench. “How are you, Jean?”
Jean just stared at her, eyes wide.
Ollie tapped Dana on the shoulder. “Is Momma going to come to get us?”
Dana shook her head. “No.”
“Sometimes she’s late.” Ollie sounded as if she was repeating something she’d heard Karen say many times before. “She’ll be here any minute.”
Dana shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ollie. She won’t be coming.”
“What do you mean?” Ollie tilted her head in an effort to understand. “Momma’s coming back.”
“No, honey. Your momma’s gone to heaven.”
Ollie wrinkled her nose. “Momma was sleeping. That’s all.”
“Momma’s not sleeping,” Karen snapped. “Momma’s dead!” Karen choked back a sob.
Dana was at a loss for words. She knew exactly how Karen felt. She understood the pain of a broken heart and knew that no kindness ever really fixed it.
“Why did she do it, Miss Ritchie? Didn’t she love us?” How unfair. Karen was trying so hard to understand the adult world, and that made Dana angry. Why had this eleven-year-old never had a childhood?
“She did love you. But she was sick and that’s why she couldn’t stop herself from doing what she did,” Dana said, and unwillingly, she understood. She’d been through this before. Adam’s image appeared before her as if she was watching the opening scene of a movie in a theater.
“What are you doing?”
Adam pushed his stubby fingers through his black hair, making it spiky. “Nothing.”
“You must be doing something.” Dana came up to investigate. In a grubby plastic water bottle Adam had placed a dandelion. “That’s very nice. But are you sure you want to put it by the door? You can put it inside so you could see it.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s got to be here.”
“Why?”
“Mom said to have a flower for her. A flower by the door means that you love someone.”
Dana pinched her lips together. She’d spent five years filling out forms so she wouldn’t have to think about Adam. Why was it now, after all this time, that he seemed so real she could touch him? Dana pushed thoughts of Adam away and held out her hands to Ollie and Jean. “Come on. Let’s play.”
“Miss Ritchie!” Ollie exclaimed. “Aren’t you too old to play?”
Play. What was it like to play? To run around with an abandon that made one forget that the world was filled with hurt, anger and sorrow.
She smiled at Ollie, “No, I’m not. So what do you want to play?” She started walking backward away from the picnic table, pulling the girls with her.
Ollie and Jean looked at each other. “Line tag!” they cried in unison.
“Will your sister play, too?” Dana asked, watching Karen, who was wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
“Karen, come play,” Ollie begged.
Karen shook her head. “No. I don’t feel like it.”
“Please, Karen?”
“No,” Karen said sharply, quelling much of her sisters’ enthusiasm. But Ollie and Jean still allowed Dana to lead them to the playground that was filled with so many different lines—from bright yellow to faded white—that they had to discuss which ones counted.
“All of them!” Ollie declared. Jean nodded her agreement.
That was easy. “So should I be it?” Dana asked with a smile.
“You need to give us a head start,” Jean
pointed out.
“’Cause you’re bigger,” Ollie explained.
Dana nodded her understanding. “I’ll count to ten.”
“Count to one hundred!” Ollie screamed as she started running.
“I’ll count to twenty,” Dana compromised. “Should I cover my eyes?”
“Yes!” Both girls giggled.
Dana closed her eyes and began counting at a slow deliberate pace. “…Nineteen, nineteen and a half, nineteen and three-quarters…twenty!” She opened her eyes and found that Jean and Ollie were on either side of the playground.
Dana took a deep breath and, being very careful to stay on the lines, began to run. She could feel her heartbeat accelerate; she heard her ankles pop. She chased after Jean first and the little girl screamed with glee. After a moment Dana changed direction and began to pursue Ollie who’d strayed a little too close. Back and forth she went until she had to stop to catch her breath. Looking up, she noticed that Karen was watching them rather than the road.
She waved Karen over. “I need someone on my side. These two are too fast for me!”
Karen hesitated, and then with great reluctance, put her backpack aside and climbed off the table. Without warning, she dashed onto the playground, running after Ollie who screeched with laughter. Somehow, someway, they all ended up in the same place at the same time. Dana tried to keep her balance, but couldn’t. Resigned, she let herself plop onto the ground. When was the last time she’d lain on the ground and looked up at the sky? It had been a long time. Too long. She heard Karen laughing and thought it was worth being here with gravel poking at the back of her neck to hear Karen’s mirth.
“Momma used to do that with us.”
Dana turned her head to look at the girl. “What?”
“Play. She used to be fun.”
“What happened?”
Karen shrugged. “We had to move real quick.”
“That must have been hard.” Dana didn’t want to know the circumstances that had made them move so quickly.
“I didn’t get my ears pierced.”
“What?” Dana didn’t follow Karen’s abrupt change in subject.
“I was supposed to get my ears pierced with my friend in Hollister. She and her mom were going to come pick me up, but Momma said we had to move that day and that she’d make it up to me. I still don’t have my ears pierced, though.” Karen’s eyes welled up again. “I guess I won’t be able to now.”
Dana sat up and pulled Karen into her lap, vowing to try to give Karen a childhood.
BRADY TIGHTENED THE LAST SCREW on the new chain he was putting on Dana’s front door. He’d heard Dana and the girls laughing before and wondered what they were doing now. As he cleaned up his tools he was struck by how much Dana had changed in just three days. On Friday it had seemed as if she could barely stand to have them in her house. Now she looked like their mother. His heart thumped. He didn’t have to marry her to get her to care for these girls, she’d cared for them almost instantly.
The noise they made caused him to stand up.
At first, she looked as if she was crying, but as he started to go and help her, he realized that she was laughing. Ollie, Jean and Karen were laughing, too. He wasn’t sure what was so funny, but he felt left out. He wanted to laugh like that…with her. However, after snapping at her the night before, he wasn’t sure that Dana would want to laugh with him. Before he knew what he was doing, he was striding across the parking lot to the playground.
Dana looked up when his shadow passed over them.
“Hi,” Brady said.
“Hi, Uncle Brady!” Ollie waved at him.
With two arms, he swooped down and plucked Jean and Ollie off Dana. “Hi, Ollie and Jean. Or is it Jean and Ollie?”
“I’m Ollie,” Ollie said indignantly. She pointed to Jean. “That’s Jean.”
“I’m Jean!” Jean shouted and then looked abashed.
“No, I think you’re Penelope,” Brady said with a wink to Karen, who had stood up and was brushing herself off.
“I’m not Pe-nel-o-pie,” Jean protested. “I’m Jean.”
“Hmm. Then who’s Penelope?”
“There is no Penelope,” Ollie guessed.
“Poor Penelope.” He looked down at Dana. “Maybe she’s Penelope.”
“That’s Miss Ritchie.”
Still on the ground, Dana was smiling at his silly conversation, and he was glad. He put down the girls, and Dana said, “I’m sure there’s cartoons on.”
Even Karen perked up at the thought of cartoons. She started to run to the house and then stopped, looking at the table where their back packs were.
“I’ll get them,” Dana called. “You go in and watch television.”
With just the briefest of hesitations, Karen followed her sisters. Dana raised herself up on her elbows, and he put his hand out. “Need help getting up?”
She grasped his hand. “Thank you,” she said, letting him haul her up. Brady couldn’t stop looking at her, and Dana started to fidget.
“What?” she demanded. “Is there dirt on my face?”
Brady shook his head, not understanding the feelings that were washing through him. Was it tenderness? He hadn’t felt that for a long time. Not since he’d held his mother’s hand on the day she died. Brady could barely speak. He cleared his throat and muttered, “You look fine.”
“Then what are you staring at?”
“You should wear your hair down more often.”
“W-what?” Dana stammered.
“You have beautiful hair,” he repeated.
“This mousy-brown stuff?” Dana gave a nervous laugh. “It’s the bane of my existence.”
“It’s got beautiful flecks of gold in it,” he observed, capturing a strand.
“I’m sure you say that to all your spinster schoolteachers,” Dana joked.
“No, just you,” Brady said. And he couldn’t have meant it more.
CHAPTER EIGHT
TO MEET BRADY’S GAZE took every ounce of courage that Dana possessed. He was serious and in his eyes was an intensity she’d never seen before. She bit her lip, wondering what she’d done to make him look at her that way. She liked the fact that he was doing it, wanted to encourage him. But how?
“I should—” She began to inch back as his smile changed from affectionate to something deeper, something scarier. She gestured toward the girls’ backpacks on the picnic table.
“Don’t go,” he said, catching the edge of her blouse and tugging her back to him.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to pick up the girls’ stuff.”
“We need to talk.”
“Talk?” Her mind was whirling. What could he want to talk about?
“I’ve got the M.E.’s report on Bev.”
Dana felt an acute sense of disappointment. Of course he would want to tell her about Bev when the children weren’t around. What was she thinking? That he wanted to talk about personal feelings? About his brother?
“What have you heard?” she asked, her smile fading.
“It’s definitely a suicide. She died in the car after taking a lot of different pills.”
Dana felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. She kicked at a piece of gravel and watched it travel three or four yards. “Those poor girls.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“So what happens now? Is temporary custody ours?”
“If it’s still the two of us, it is,” Brady said.
There was a long pause. Dana nodded. “Yes. It’s still the two of us. We can do it together.”
Dana didn’t know what to think when Brady grabbed her and pulled her against him in a big bear hug.
ONE MINUTE BRADY was hugging Dana in a friendly way. Then, as she slid down his chest, it changed into something more intimate. She stared up at him and repeated, “Together.”
Whether it was her breathy tone or the luminescence of her brown eyes, which seemed to swallow him, the word sounded like a
pact that needed to be sealed. Without even thinking about any of the consequences, Brady slowly bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. Her muffled “oh” had him pulling her closer. He wasn’t aware of the shapeless brown skirt, but rather the very attractive curves beneath. It was only supposed to be a simple kiss to seal their bargain, but when her arms went around his neck, he couldn’t do anything but sink deeper into the kiss.
“Miss Ritchie?” a small voice startled them both.
Dana jerked back so quickly that if Brady hadn’t braced her, she would have fallen.
“Y-yes, Ollie?” Dana asked.
“Why are you kissing Uncle Brady?”
Blushing, Dana looked at Brady, as if she was hoping he had some snappy explanation. She smoothed back her hair and then her skirt.
“We were just practicing for when we get married on Friday,” Brady answered.
Dana looked impressed. “Is there something you wanted, Ollie?” she prompted.
Ollie scrunched her forehead. “I forget.” She turned to walk back to the house, then stopped and motioned to them. “Come with me.”
“You guys go. I’ll go get the backpacks,” Dana said, waving them on.
Dana watched Brady lift Ollie, put her under his arm like a football and take off at a run. She closed her eyes. He had kissed her, really truly kissed her. And she had kissed him back. She picked up the backpacks and decided that one kiss wasn’t enough. She’d only known the man for three days, yet she was kissing him as if they were on the verge of something more. It had her thinking that they might be able to make their arrangement permanent. Could they be a family? She wanted to believe it, but common sense told her differently.
Eventually Brady and the girls wouldn’t need her. They would move into a nice house, make their own lives and that would be that. She hugged the three little backpacks to her chest and slowly walked back to the cottage. She had to be sensible and realistic about her marriage. It was definitely not forever.
As she entered the house, she noticed the shiny new bolt on the door. He’d said he would fix it and he had. He was a man of his word. That wasn’t the only thing he’d done. The whole living room had been cleaned from top to bottom. The girls were on the floor, their eyes glued to the television set, drinking tall glasses of milk and eating apple slices from a large bowl. She recognized the bowl, but she knew she didn’t have anything that resembled apples or milk in her fridge. They waved to her when she came into the room.