"I want a lot of things," Brad said, "including having you in my bed, but that won't get either one of us what we need, which for you is regaining your self-respect, and for me is to get on with being a father to my daughter. We've got to have some priorities here. Sophie is suddenly at the top of a list I didn't even have two days ago, but now she comes first and writing comes second. I have enough income generated from book sales that I can afford to take off for a while, and after Sophie and I have settled in, I'll go the next step."
"Find a mother for her," Justine said, in a gloomy voice.
Brad nodded and said nothing, but what he didn't say said it all.
***
Justine rushed out of the bedroom when she discovered Sophie missing. The digital clock on the bedside table said it was not yet six in the morning, but it was still dark. She clicked on the light in the living area and saw that the toys and gifts under the tree were undisturbed, but there was no sign of Sophie. Rushing to Brad's bedroom, she swept open the door and clicked on the light, and said, in an anxious voice, "Get up quickly. Sophie's gone!"
Brad threw back the covers and lunged out of bed. "What do you mean she's gone?"
"I woke up to find my bed empty and she's nowhere around," Justine said, her eyes fixed on navy blue briefs that were no more than a wide band around Brad's hips and a pouch.
"She can't just be gone," Brad said, shoving his legs into his sweats. "If she went outside she could die of exposure." He tugged a tee shirt over his head and rushed through the living room and swept open the front door. Although it was dark, the glow from the utility lights showed no footprints leaving the cabin. "She's got to be inside," he said. "Where have you looked?"
"Just around this room. I was so worried when I found her missing I went right to get you."
Brad looked under the table and checked behind an overstuffed chair angled in one corner. Then he caught sight of the tattered end of Sophie's pink blanket in the space between the couch and the table with the Christmas tree. He walked over and looked down, and saw Sophie curled up, holding her bear. The jar with the chocolate-covered filberts was on the floor beside her, its cap removed and several nuts, along with the note to Santa, laying nearby.
Brad crouched and looked down at Sophie, and said in a weary voice, "Her world's about to come crashing down around her and there's not a damn thing I can do. She's only five years old, and she's about to learn that Santa's a fraud. But I guess I'd better get her back in bed." He lifted Sophie in his arms and stood, cradling her against him. For a few moments he looked down at her as if he didn't quite believe she was his, then he started for the bedroom. Justine went ahead of them and pulled the covers back for him to lay Sophie on the bed. When he did, Sophie gave a little soft whimper, then curled on her side away from them, gripped her bear to her chest, and settled her head against the pillow, her eyes closed in restless sleep. Brad spread the tattered pink blanket over her, covered her with the bed quilt, and said, "I want to let her sleep for a while."
"I'll stay in here with her," Justine replied.
Brad shook his head. "No, it's me she needs to turn to from now on."
Justine stared at Brad. In an instant she'd become irrelevant. "Do you want me to go back to the lodge?"
Brad took her by the arm and nudged her out the room, then turned off the light and closed the door. "Stay here a little longer," he said, "but then Sophie will need to get used to coming to me when she needs things."
"That's fine," Justine replied, "but can you get used to her? She'll need help in the bathroom, and she'll also need someone to help with her bath. Do you think she wants a man doing that? Even five-year-olds have a sense of modesty." Catching the look of dubiousness on Brad's face, she added, "I may have no sense of modesty, but I could instill it in Sophie. Tomorrow I'm going to town to buy some underwear and a robe for myself and one for Sophie. That'll be a start."
Brad stared at Justine with brows drawn, and said, "I didn't think about the bath so I suppose you should stay a while longer." The idea seemed to trouble him, but Justine wasn't sure whether it was the idea of her staying longer, or of him helping a little girl take a bath.
"You'd also better start thinking about how to explain woman things to her when the time comes," Justine said. "She's only five, but in five or six years she'll start her period and you'll have to talk to her about that before it happens or she'll think she bleeding to death. And when she gets into middle school, you'll need to make sure she doesn't want to be a cheerleader or she'll be having sex by the time she's fifteen. Are you ready for all of this?"
"I don't know," Brad said. "I can't think straight with you in that tee shirt again. I can see right through the damn thing, thong and all."
"And speaking of thongs," Justine snapped. "Why is it okay for you to wear that thing you have on under your sweats, but you get after me for doing the same. You were practically coming out of it. What's the point of it anyway?"
"It holds everything together when I sleep," Brad replied. "I only wear it at night."
"Well, that was fine until now," Justine said, "but what if Sophie walked in and found you like that? She'd be shocked and confused wondering what kind of hairy creature you had packed in that pouch. You need to buy some pajamas, ones with a long enough pajama top to cover your fly. And don't wear sweat pants without briefs anymore. They leave nothing to the imagination."
"Look, I get the point," Brad grumbled. "I'll be sure to keep my cock covered."
"Don't get testy," Justine said. "It's for Sophie. She's young and impressionable and she doesn't need to be made aware of the anatomical structure of a fully-developed male at this early age. As for me, I don't care if you run around naked. I've seen my share of men and they are, for the most part, pretty much alike, although I have to concede that what you have makes me want to act on it. You have an above average piece of equipment."
Brad glared at her. "You just won't quit, will you?"
"I don't know what you mean by quit," Justine said, knowing exactly what he meant, yet finding herself unable to keep from pushing his hot buttons. "But I do know what turns a woman on, and you have it, but your five-year-old daughter doesn't need to be exposed to it."
Brad said, in an agitated voice, "I'm trying to help you rebuild your self-esteem, and you tell me I have an above average piece of equipment, and you're naked under that shirt, and all I can think about is screwing the hell out of you. And yeah, the thing I'm wearing doesn't even hold half of it right now, but I'm not going to take you to bed to alleviate the problem either."
"Why not? It's not like I'm a virgin," Justine said. "Maybe I'll find out what an orgasm is and decide it's overrated and never want to have sex again." She knew she was continuing to push Brad's hot buttons, but the fact was, she wanted to go to bed with him. But she also wanted him to make love to her, not sex, love. She wanted to be with a man who didn't want anything from her but her love, and she wanted to give her love to a man who had nothing to give her in return but his love, if only for just one night, and do it tonight, while Sophie was still asleep and before her little world would turn upside down and Brad's life would be changed forever.
"Could we?" Justine asked. "I know it would be different with you."
Brad looked at her, and said, "If I took you into the bedroom right now I'd just be another man screwing Justine Page and dropping her afterwards. You know it, and so do I. What we need is to stop this kind of talk and focus on Sophie. She'll be coming out of that bedroom soon and I still don't know what to do with her when she does. I think maybe you're better at this than I am."
"I know I am," Justine said, feeling the first glimmer of hope that maybe she could be an active part of this, maybe not mothering, but Sophie was going through something that was not much different than what Brad was going through, and she'd helped him.
Brad lowered himself to the couch, slumped his shoulders, and said, "If Sophie will come to me when she finds out her mother isn't here I want
her to do that, but if she won't, then you'll have to do the best you can."
"I'll try," Justine said. "Meanwhile, I'd better fix a pot of coffee." She turned to the kitchen counter and filled the teapot with water and set it on the stove to boil, then opened the canister of coffee. As she was dumping several scoops into the French press, Brad got up from the couch, and said in an irritable voice, "With you wearing that thing I can't stop thinking about hauling you off to bed. I'm going to take a cold shower. Be dressed when I come out."
"Excuse me," Justine said, turning to face him, the plunger of the French press in her hand. "If that was an order, I don't do orders. I give them, remember."
"Yeah, well I'm going through hell with you here like this, and you're not at your damn company right now running a board meeting, and I don't feel much like being diplomatic." He walked out of the room, and moments later, Justine heard the shower.
She also knew Brad was right, she did talk and act like a slut, and for some reason he got aroused by the oversized tee shirt, though she didn't know why. She was flat chested and her legs were like sticks, but she also wanted to change. Why she was having such a hard time doing it with Brad she didn't understand—the idea of sleeping with any other man now was unthinkable—but with Brad it was different. He was the first man to make her want to change because he saw something in her no other man had. Something worth fixing.
It was a strangely burdensome concept, wanting to be the best she could be simply to please someone, knowing there would be no more to it than that. Brad had no intention of marrying her, even if she could somehow miraculously turn into a Justine Page version of Grace, but at least she'd try to be a little closer to what Brad was looking for, because it would also put her a little closer to being the woman she wanted to be. She let out a little snort of derision. Justine Page finally finds the man she wants, and he's the only man she can't have because she has absolutely nothing to offer him. No tit for tat this time. A weighty thought.
CHAPTER 8
Brad had barely turned off the water when he heard Sophie shrieking. He shoved legs still damp from the shower into his sweats and pulled a tee shirt over his wet head and chest, and rushed out of the bathroom and into the living room, where he found Sophie screaming incoherently and thrashing her arms while Justine tried to hold her from behind.
"Sophie, it's okay, it's okay," Justine was saying, but Sophie was too out-of-control to hear. Shrugging out of Justine's arms, she raced over to the Christmas tree and with a sweep of her arm sent toys and gifts flying across the room.
"I hate Santa," she cried. "I hate him. I want Mommy. I want Mommy." She ran around the room looking under the table and behind the couch, then raced first into one bedroom then into the other, all the while crying, "Mommy... Mommy... Mommmyyyyy."
Brad raced after her and scooped her up in his arms and attempted to hold her against him, but she beat her small fists against his chest, and wailed, "I hate you. Put me down. Put me down! I want Mommy." She wriggled her little body sharply one way then snapped it the other, kicking and thrashing her arms, until Brad released her. Before he could stop her, she raced for the front door, hurled it open, sending it crashing against the wall, and ran out into the snow, barefoot, in her nightgown. She was half way to the lodge before Brad caught up with her and snatched her up in his arms. Holding her firmly against him, he returned to the cabin, then let her down and quickly locked the deadbolt, removing the key and pocketing it, but when he reached for Sophie again, she shoved him away and turned, only to find herself in Justine's arms.
But while she yelled and cried and screamed, Justine continued to hold her tightly to her chest, and gradually Sophie's cries began to let up, until after a while, she was left exhausted in Justine's arms, whimpering softly while Justine stroked her hair and rubbed her back and held her head against her chest, and said in a soft voice, "It's okay honey, just keep crying. I'm here. You'll be alright, it's okay."
Justine picked Sophie up and carried her to the couch and sat down with her and held her in her lap, while Sophie continued crying softly and saying, intermittently, "I want my mommy to come home. I want Mommy."
"I know," Justine said. "I know. You miss her and so do a lot of people, but she's in heaven now and she's watching over you and always will, but she can't be here to watch over you anymore because God needs her up there for some reason."
"I hate God," Sophie said. "He took Mommy and I hate Him."
"But God has something special for your mommy to do. We don't know what it is, but God has a plan and your mommy's part of His plan and they'll be doing great things that we don't know about, but it will be good." Justine snatched several tissues from the box and dabbed at Sophie's eyes, and helped her blow her nose and gave her a little kiss on the forehead and held her against her chest and rocked her back and forth.
From his stance across the room, Brad stared in disbelief at Justine, sitting on the couch, with Sophie in her arms, rocking her while talking softly to her, and he could see Sophie slowly sinking into Justine's embrace. He had no idea how this would play out, but for the moment, Justine was getting through where he'd failed. What he was going to do about Justine further down the road he didn't know. She was not a woman he could keep around permanently, and the longer he allowed Sophie to bond with her, the harder it would be for Sophie to break the tie.
For Justine's part, there would be no tie. Sophie was a temporary stopover in the life of Justine Page. Once Justine returned to Seattle and the life she'd left behind, Brad and Sophie Meecham would cease to exist.
While he stood watching them, Justine looked at him, and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes, which surprised him, yet didn't. Justine was a complex woman. That she could feel something for the child of a woman whose name he'd called out while Justine was holding him during his own hell was commendable. That she could ultimately be a mother to Sophie was unthinkable. A wife to him, possibly... Until Sophie became a part of his life. Now he needed a woman like Grace Hansen, and maybe he'd have other kids with the right woman, but no way on God's earth could that woman be Justine, a woman with too much baggage to mother a troubled child and be a wife to a flawed man who was fighting his own demons...
"You feeling better?" Justine asked Sophie.
Sophie nodded slightly, then cuddled closer to Justine and said nothing.
"Would you like to look at your Christmas presents?" Justine asked.
Sophie shook her head. "I hate Santa," she replied, and closed her eyes tightly, as if to make the world go away.
"There are some things Santa can't fix," Justine said, "because Santa also has to do what God tells him to do, and God has another plan for your mommy, but Santa left you some things he thought you might want."
"I only want Mommy," Sophie said with resolve.
Justine looked at Brad, who shrugged hopelessly. He didn't remember much about Christmases when he was a kid, other than feeling excitement on waking up and seeing the tree with the toys under it on Christmas morning. All Sophie would remember of Christmas from now on, for the rest of her life, would be that Santa didn't bring Mommy because God took her away, and she hated both Santa and God. Maybe Justine was on the wrong track with all this, but for the life of him, he didn't know what the right track was.
"Why don't we go to the lodge and see what's going on over there," Justine suggested to Brad. "At least it would take Sophie's mind off things here."
"Will she go?" Brad asked, looking at Sophie, who was cuddled against Justine, eyes staring straight ahead, seeming completely unresponsive.
"I don't know." Justine smoothed Sophie's pale blond curls from her face, and said, "Honey, do you want to see the tree in the lodge? There's a cat there. Do you like cats?"
Sophie nodded.
"Does that mean you want to go to the lodge, or that you like cats?"
"Cats," Sophie replied.
"The cat's name is Mei Ling," Justine said. "She's very snooty. She thinks she's a princess."<
br />
Sophie raised her head and looked at Justine. "Is she?"
Justine laughed. "I don't know, but since she thinks she is we have to go along with it. She's a pretty gray cat with golden eyes. She likes to sit on the mantelpiece over the fireplace and look down on all the silly humans."
Brad saw a half smile touch Sophie's lips, but the smile never reached her eyes, and almost immediately, Sophie's lips settled into an arc of sadness. Deciding to test things, now that Sophie had gotten over the shock of not finding Yvette, he walked over and crouched in front of Sophie and Justine, and said to Sophie, "Would you like me to carry you over there to see Mei Ling?"
Sophie glared at him, then shot her arm out, bracing her hand against his chest, and said, "Go away!" Then buried her face against Justine's chest and closed her eyes.
And the reality of the situation began to dawn. He had a daughter, who hated him, and the only woman his daughter could relate to was a temporary figure in her life, and he was there for the duration... For what? As he weighed his options, anger began roiling inside. Why in hell did Yvette get herself killed? And why in hell hadn't she told him he was a father. He could have bonded with Sophie back then. Now, it was impossible. The kid was five and she was bonding with a woman whose claim to fame was that she knew how to use sex to get what she wanted. He could shove that behind for himself, but a woman like Justine could not begin to instill in Sophie the kind of morals he wanted for her. For any of his kids, if others were to come...
"Honey," Justine said to Sophie, "Let's go see Mei Ling. She's probably sitting on the mantel acting snooty, but really wanting a friend. Okay?"
Sophie nodded, but said nothing.
Justine set her down, then took her hand and walked with her to the bedroom.
Brad sat listening to Justine's voice as she helped Sophie dress, while wondering how he would have gotten a little girl to take off her nightgown and put on these nice lace panties and hold up her arms for him to pull... this fancy new dress over her head, and let him... comb these pretty blond curls. And later, all the woman stuff, talking to a daughter about menstrual periods and tampons and all the other things mothers tell daughters about. He had no problem talking to women about those things, but a daughter...
Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 29