“I have a daughter,” it was something. Not everything, but something.
“It’s okay, I know… what? Did you just say you have a daughter?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“The usual way.”
“But… I mean… wait a second… how old is she?”
“She’ll be ten in February.”
“Oh. Okay, I get it. Okay. Do you see your daughter? Would you want her to live with us?”
“She doesn’t know who I am,” I admitted in a whisper, blinking back the tears.
“Do you know where she is?”
“Conrad is raising her.”
“Really?” Charlie seemed put-out by something, but only repeated “Really?”
“Yes. Really. He’s raised her since she was born. I just couldn’t….” I let my voice drift off. The statement was true enough in so many ways, probably just not in the ones he thought.
“Okay, then. I wish you’d told me sooner, but that doesn’t change anything.”
“Don’t you ever get angry?”
“Should I?”
“Yes, you should,” I shoved his chest a little.
“I do get angry. I try not to show it around you, though,” he seemed embarrassed by that admission. “But I’m not angry over this. I get why you didn’t tell me.”
“That’s not everything…,” I could have kicked myself for bringing it up.
“Okay, then let’s hear it.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again; it was the fish routine I’d done often in our first week together. I’d just opened my mouth again when his cell phone rang. He heaved a sigh and held up a hand.
“Hold that thought,” he instructed as he answered the phone. I could tell from his end of the conversation that it wasn’t a good call. The tortured look in his eyes when he hung up made me reach for him instinctively.
“What is it, mon ange?” I usually refrained from speaking in French. It was one more clue as to my heritage. Sometimes I just forgot. It’s one of the many reasons I’m a lousy liar.
“Cara. She’s hurt… they took her to the hospital,” he seemed shell shocked.
“Let’s go. Do you want me to drive?”
To my surprise, he handed me the keys. I sincerely hoped driving a car was like riding a bike since I’d heard somewhere that was a skill one didn’t forget.
Luckily, I did well enough and he was distracted enough we made it to the hospital without my renewing the fear of God in him. Even better, I managed to not get pulled over.
“My daughter, Cara Russell, was brought in this evening,” Charlie startled the woman at the front desk.
“The doctor is in with her now,” the woman’s expression softened. “Go down that hall. It’s the first door on the right.”
Charlie grabbed me by the hand and dragged me in the direction of his daughter. He burst through the door in question with me in tow, startling everyone in the room.
“Charlie, I’m so sorry,” Anjelita instantly rushed to his side.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “What happened?”
“It seems the girls were climbing the bunk beds and Cara fell,” the doctor wrapping Cara’s arm interjected. “Lucky for her, she’ll only have a broken arm to show for it. Things could have been much worse.”
“Yes sir,” Cara nodded solemnly. Tears stained her grubby cheeks.
“Thank God,” Charlie breathed a sigh of relief, leaning over to kiss his little girl on the forehead. “You scared me to death, young lady.”
“Sorry Daddy,” she hiccupped pitifully.
“You poor thing,” my heart went out to her. “I know that really hurts.”
“When did you break your arm?” she seemed encouraged by the fact that we shared the same plight.
“Three years ago.”
“What happened?”
“Fell from a bunk bed, wouldn’t you know it,” I lied right through my teeth. It seemed like a better answer than getting caught in the middle of a prison gang war. “But it’s all better now…see?” I held my arm up for inspection.
“What am I going to do with you girls?” Charlie ruffled his daughter’s hair as he slid an arm around my waist. The gesture was not lost on Anjelita. From the hopeful look in her eyes, I knew she’d been in on the plans for the evening. She and Manny discreetly filed out, leaving Charlie and I with Cara while the doctor finished up.
Of course, they were still waiting in the lobby when we left. I should have known that Anjelita’s sense of guilt was too great for her to have gone far without a few dozen more apologies.
We went through a drive through on the way home to get Cara a chocolate milk shake. The cathartic powers of a chocolate shake are a wonder to behold. I helped her get changed into her pajamas to save Charlie the dilemma. By the time we got her tucked into bed, I was so tired I could hardly move.
“You never answered my question,” Charlie reminded me as we sank onto the couch in an exhausted heap.
“Very observant man…” I agreed before asking a question of my own out of pure morbid curiosity. “Hey, did you get me a ring?”
“I did,” he pulled a small box out of his pocket. It was a pretty ring—feminine, with intricate designs—but not ostentatious. The diamond in the center sparkled merrily at me from a bed of white-gold scrollwork.
“Can I try it on?” I could barely breathe. It was perfect.
“Of course,” he carefully slid the ring onto my finger. Somehow he’d managed to get it in the right size, too. I leaned back against him and we watched the ring sparkle in the lamplight.
I’m not sure how long we sat there, staring at my hand and not saying a word. Part of my soul wanted to sing. Part of me wanted to run away and hide in a dark cave or somewhere equally removed from society and good people I would only hurt.
“So, did the ring sway you at all?”
“It’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning.”
“But?” he could hear the hesitation in my voice.
“I don’t think you want someone like me being a mother to Cara.”
“You’re a lot better than her biological mother. You help her with her homework, wipe away her tears, listen to her dreams, teach her how to be a girl… what more could she ask for?”
“Someone who’s not a convicted felon, for one,” I snapped before my mental filter could stop the words. I was both horrified and immensely relieved.
“Fair enough,” he seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. “Do you think you could expand on that a bit?”
I studied his eyes for some hint of repulsion or condemnation but could find none. In fact, they seemed oddly absent of surprise, too. Whatever feelings he harbored, he was keeping them masked. The words were out there; it seemed as good a time as any to come clean.
I took a deep breath and picked up where I had left off the last time I’d given him a glimpse into my past. This time I told him about the tire iron, about my panicked flight after the fact. I’d been found broken and bloody and hiding in a storm drain. They’d arrested me and taken me straight to the county jail. After a joke of a trial, I’d been shipped to Dixon Correctional.
He didn’t interrupt me as I spoke, and his eyes never flashed with anger or revulsion. He just held my hands as I poured out everything that had happened over the years. At one point, he got up long enough to go get us each a glass of wine. Then he settled back in on the couch, pulled me up to him, and encouraged me to go on.
So I did. I told him about the night I burned the meatloaf and was reborn.
“Do you have any idea what a stubborn substance burned meatloaf is? Long after the rest of the kitchen crew had cleared out, I found myself standing and scrubbing pans. At first I thought the shuffling of feet behind me was a correction officer coming to check up on me. When a hand grabbed me by the back of my head and shoved my face into a sink full of greasy water, I kind of figured it wasn’t a C.O.”
“Good Lord,” his breath caught
.
I shrugged, self conscious. “Yeah, I still startle sometimes if I hear someone walk up behind me while I’m doing the dishes. I knew I’d been cornered by the Chicas and that didn’t leave me with many options, so I grabbed the nearest pan and started swinging. I think it kind of surprised all of us when I first made contact. One of them fell to the floor and her friends stared in shock just long enough for me to take off for the nearest door. Maybe I should have run straight to the guards—Lord knows panicking hadn’t done me any favors ten years ago—but I was operating on instinct and that was telling me the C.O.s wouldn’t take the time to hear my side of things before sticking me in the Hole.”
“I can’t really say what happened next. The Chicas chased me for a while, but soon their footsteps were replaced by heavier-booted ones. Looking back, it makes me think of a Bible story my mama used to tell—one about the angel walking Peter right on out of King Herod’s jail—because there is no rational explanation for how I found myself out in the hot, sticky night sprinting across the prison lawn,” I lost myself in a memory I’d worked hard to repress.
He sat motionless as I recounted streaking through the Louisiana night and the days of wandering that followed.
“I didn’t know where I was going—I was just putting some distance between me and Dixon Correctional. And then I stumbled across Anjelita and she took me in. You know the rest.”
I had talked well into the night. With no more story to tell, I turned to look into his eyes.
“So, before I answer your question let me ask one of my own. Now that you know… does your offer still stand?”
“Well, actually, I have a bit of a confession of my own,” he hesitated briefly before plunging ahead. “I knew.”
“You… knew?” I blinked a few times.
“Well, not all of it. But quite a bit of it… yeah, I knew.”
“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that.”
“I wanted you to tell me in your own time.”
“Do you have any idea how torn up I’ve been over keeping this from you?”
“I had hoped you’d tell me sooner.”
“And risk losing you? Or putting you in a position to lie for me? Now that I’m out, I really don’t want to go back…”
“You’re never going back,” he quickly promised.
“How can you say that with any certainty? What would it do to Cara if her stepmother wound up in prison?”
“Oh I can promise you that you’re never going back. If I have to pack up the entire family and leave the country, you aren’t going back there. I’ve seen that place. You don’t belong there; you never did.”
“When did you see that place?”
“Visiting a new client,” he hedged. I saw it in his eyes. It was his turn to keep something from me.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m Mary’s attorney.”
“Oh.”
“Conrad didn’t want you to know. He thought it would worry you too much.”
“That brat.”
“He’s trying to help.”
“I know,” I tried to process it all. “So you’ve known for a while now.”
“It didn’t take long to figure it out once I started talking to Mary,” he admitted.
“And that’s why I’ve had to pick Cara up so often. You’ve been in Louisiana.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry… this never would have dawned on me. You’re licensed in Louisiana?”
“Yeah, I worked as a junior prosecutor in Marion County years ago.”
“Well I feel silly,” I felt all of the energy drain from my body suddenly as a huge burden was lifted.
“Don’t. I’m completely and totally in awe of you. I think you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“You’re right… yes, I’ll marry you,” I decided in that instant anything I might face as a result of my consent was worth it if I got to stay wrapped in his arms for just a little bit longer.
“My little jailbird,” he kissed the top of my head and sighed contentedly.
Chapter Ten
My happy haze was disturbed by a constant tapping at the front door. I lifted my head and met Charlie’s confused gaze.
“Why don’t you go check on Cara while I see who’s at the door,” he suggested as he stretched. I nodded drowsily and headed up the stairs to Cara’s room. The thought occurred to me that it could be a police officer on his porch, but that thought occurred to me any time someone knocked on the door.
I couldn’t be sure if my sticking my head in her room is what woke Cara up, but I was met with a sleepy good morning.
“Morning, sunshine,” I greeted her with a kiss to the forehead. “How’s your arm?”
“It hurts,” she frowned prettily then brightened. “That’s a very pretty ring.”
“It is,” I remembered the ring and held my hand out for us both to survey. “Your daddy bought it for me.”
“Does that mean you’re his wife now?”
“It means I will be… if that’s okay with you,” I hoped Charlie wasn’t upset with me for telling her, but I wasn’t going to lie.
“And you’ll be my mom?”
“Well, you have a mom. But I’ll be your step-mom.”
“I don’t like my mom. She left me. I want you to be my mom.”
“Then I’ll be your mom,” I brushed her hair back from her face, touched by her words but also wondering if Gabrielle disliked me for the same reasons Cara did Julie. “Right now, I’m going to go get you some Tylenol for the pain in your arm. Then I’ll make you some breakfast. Deal?”
“Deal,” she nodded with a bubbly smile. I felt pretty bubbly on the inside myself. I ran a quick brush through my hair and took Cara her medicine, then bounded down the steps to go make some bacon and eggs.
The sight of the woman standing in the entryway brought me up short. She was only slightly shorter than Charlie and put together better than any Barbie doll. But it was the riotous blonde curls and bright blue eyes that froze me in place. She was obviously Cara’s mother. One look told me the rumors flying around town about her drug addiction were just that—rumors. Fear clinched my stomach.
If the resemblance hadn’t given it away, Charlie’s discomfort would have. He didn’t seem to be capable of not rubbing the back of his neck without subsequently pinching the bridge of his nose or jamming his hands in his pockets.
“Oh,” she gasped when she saw me. “I didn’t mean to interrupt… I have to say I’m a little surprised at you, Charlie. The old Charlie wouldn’t have brought a woman home for the night. And certainly not in front of our daughter.”
“It’s not like that,” I protested, instantly disliking her. “Cara hurt herself last night so I stayed on the couch in case they needed me.”
“Oh no… far be it for me to ask an explanation,” she waved me off as if I was insignificant.
“Julie,” Charlie’s voice was firm. “I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Neena Allen.”
“Oh,” she pursed her lips. I wanted to pinch them off. If she said “oh” one more time, I just might. “What a surprise. Last I heard, you weren’t seeing anybody. This must be very sudden.”
“Are you keeping tabs on me?” Charlie moved towards me. I finished my descent down the steps to meet him halfway. “Some people might think it’s sudden. I just couldn’t take the chance that Neena here was just a dream.”
The look he gave me made my heart melt. Maybe a few other things, too.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” Charlie leveled his gaze on her, squelching the glare she had rested on me.
“Can’t a mother check in on her baby?” She batted her eyelashes prettily. I wanted to rip them out when she did that. Right after I pinched her lips off, I’d get to those.
“You are not my mother!” a little voice shrieked from the top of the stairs. “Miss Neena is my mot
her now. She told me.”
“It wasn’t exactly like that,” my eyes met Charlie’s and I tried to fight the panic rising in my chest.
“You did so say!”
“I know baby girl… I just meant they should hear the rest of the conversation, too,” I tried to explain but she had already whirled around and was gone.
“I’ll go talk to her,” Charlie assured me. “I’ll be right back.”
A cold silence settled after he disappeared up the steps. She glared at me, hatred rolling off her in waves. I met her gaze, trying to keep mine neutral. Trying.
“I told her I’d be her step-mom,” I attempted to clarify.
“You might think you can show up like a stray dog on the porch and take this family, but you have no place here,” Julie informed me in a low growl.
“Excuse me?” Fury rose through me instantly.
“You heard me. Go back to where you came from little dog. This is my family.”
“You mean… the family you threw away? That one? I don’t think so,” I took a step towards her. “Now why don’t you go back to where you came from before either of us says something we regret?”
“I don’t intend to give this up without a fight.”
“Fine. You might be bigger, but I’m a helluva lot meaner. We can step outside right now if you’d like.”
“I’m not going to fight you in the front lawn like some sort of Neanderthal.”
“Prefer to lie in wait like a snake in the grass, do you? Duly noted,” I folded my arms across my chest and gave her my fiercest look. On Conrad, that same look could make grown men cry. Apparently it lost something in the translation when I did it because she didn’t even tear up a little.
“Crisis averted. Cara is properly reassured that you are in fact going to be her mommy,” Charlie cheerfully informed me as he headed back down the stairs.
“Charlie…,” Julie practically stamped her foot in protest.
“Julie, you haven’t even called her since you walked out that door. What did you expect? For the world to stop turning here? It didn’t. Now go home.”
“You’ll be hearing from me again,” she whirled and left with much flurry.
Charlie and I stood there for a minute, our eyes saying what words could not. How far would Julie go to rout me from their lives? What would she stoop to, just to hurt Charlie for the words he’d spoken?
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