Together With You

by Victoria Bylin

  Penny saw her contorted face and laughed.

  Fighting a helpless shriek, Carly hunched forward with her hands knotted at her chest. Her mind tumbled into a black hole. Nothing about this moment was funny. Not the spilled paint or Penny’s show of temper. Not Carly’s undeniable feelings for Ryan and Denise’s meddling in their lives. It hurt. Every bit of it. And there wasn’t a thing she could do to change the circumstances.

  She sucked in a lungful of air and raised her face back to Penny, still spinning in her paint-covered socks. Carly pulled her down to her lap, tugged off the socks, and called through the open door. “Kyle? Eric? I need some help.”

  “On my way!” Kyle yelled.

  He said something to Eric as he came down the hall, saw the mess on Penny’s floor, and made a face. Before Carly said a word, he held out his hand to Penny. “Come on, Squirrel. Let’s build something with Legos.”

  “A castle?” Penny asked.

  “Whatever you want.”

  Carly mouthed a silent thank you to Kyle. With Penny in hand, he led the way downstairs to the family room.

  Sometimes life was just too much. Her anger slid into a murky pool that had grown deeper and wider all week. Filled with the steady drip-drip of her ambivalent feelings for Ryan, that pool became a lake as murky as the spilled paint. She cleaned up the mess from Penny’s tantrum, dipped a brush in another can holding a darker shade of gray, and swiped it across the flat bottom of a storm cloud.

  In her mind she heard rain hammering her father’s roof, saw black clouds and feathery wisps, the turmoil in the Kentucky sky. Like her mother used to say, “If you don’t like the weather in Kentucky, wait ten minutes and it’ll change.”

  Carly wished her feelings for Ryan were as transient, but they were more like the sky above the clouds—unchanging, bright, and true blue. This wasn’t a schoolgirl crush. She loved him. Stupid or not, she had lost her heart to a worldly man who didn’t understand her at all, lived in Los Angeles, and preferred “for now” to “forever.”

  Could he really love her if he didn’t understand the most basic part of her character? Not that he loved her. She was sure he didn’t.

  Because he couldn’t.

  But what if he did?

  She’d seen his expression when he realized how serious she was about marriage and her own sexuality. Surprise had morphed into fascination, then desire evident in a look that seared her skin. Every cell in her body had leapt to life, and she felt that leaping now.

  “Carly!” Kyle’s voice shot up the stairs.

  Surrendering to a groan, she hurried to the kitchen where Kyle was at the sink running water and Penny was . . . painting the wall? Gasping, Carly took in smears of ketchup and mustard as high as Penny could reach. Her hands were covered with the red and yellow slime, and she’d gotten it on her face and in her hair.

  Carly grabbed Penny’s hand to stop the damage. “What did you do?”

  Her bottom lip poked out. “I’m painting—like you!”

  “This isn’t painting,” Carly ground out. “It’s a mess.”

  Kyle squeezed water out of a sponge. “I went to get the Legos but couldn’t find them right away. When I came out—” he indicated the wall with a disparaging nod. “That’s what she was doing.”

  Carly glared at the mess. Next to her, Penny whimpered, “My hands are icky.”

  “Kyle, hand me a paper towel—”

  “We’re out.” He headed to the laundry room for a fresh roll.

  “Get it off me!” Penny shrieked. “Get it off me now!”

  A meltdown was coming. If Denise had walked into the room at that moment, Carly would have given her an earful. They all suffered when she spoiled Penny, with Penny suffering the most. Shaking with fury, Carly gripped Penny’s slick hands and crouched. “What’s the rule about the refrigerator?”

  Penny’s bottom lip trembled. “I-I don’t know.”

  “You’re not allowed to open it.”

  “But Aunt DeeDee said—”

  “Your daddy makes the rules here.” Carly paused to let the words sink in, then repeated them. “Your daddy makes the rules. In this house, you are not allowed to open the refrigerator.”

  When tears flooded Penny’s eyes, Carly let go of one of her hands and pulled a tissue out of her pocket. Before she could wipe Penny’s face, Penny rubbed her eye with her mustard-covered fingers.

  “Penny. No!” But it was too late. The mustard got in her eye and started to sting.

  “It hurts!” Screaming, Penny stomped her feet so hard the floor shook.

  Carly swung her up into her arms and raced to the kitchen sink.

  Kyle came back with paper towels. “Do you need me, because if you don’t—”

  “Go,” she said over Penny’s shrieks. “I’ll handle it from here.”

  He took off like a cat on fire. Carly cranked the water back on and made it lukewarm. As she stuck Penny’s hand under the stream, the doorbell rang. No one ever dropped in on the Tremaines, not even Taylor or Eric’s friends. It had to be the UPS man or FedEx. Ryan hadn’t mentioned a delivery, but they weren’t speaking, so how would she know?

  “Kyle?” she shouted. “Could you get that?”

  He called back yes, leaving Carly to wrestle with Penny. The child’s tears had washed away most of the mustard, but she was in a full-blown panic. With one hand firm on Penny’s shoulder, Carly used her own hand to squeegee the mess off Penny’s cheeks. If her eyes were at all irritated, she’d rush Penny to Ryan’s office.

  “It hurts!” Penny cried again. “Make it stop!”

  Kyle walked back into the kitchen. “Uh, Carly?”

  “What is it?”

  When he didn’t answer, she looked up and saw a pinched expression on his lean face. “There’s someone here for Dad.”

  “Who is it?”

  He held out a cheap white business card. “I don’t know, but she’s from the Department of Family and Child Services.”

  “She’s from where?”

  Kyle repeated himself in the exact same tone, much like Carly spoke to Penny.

  Her vision tunneled into a black hole. This woman was here to investigate an allegation of some sort, but who would call? Then it hit her. There was only one person in the world who doubted Ryan’s ability to care for Penny, and that was Denise. How dare she call Social Services! No matter what misunderstanding had led to the report, Ryan deserved the respect of a direct confrontation.

  Clutching Penny with one hand, Carly pinched the card with her stained fingers and read, Louanne Stuart, LCSW, Dept. of Family and Child Services.

  Penny shrieked again, her anguish echoing off the walls. “It hurts! Make it stop! It hurts!”

  Carly knew what Louanne Stuart was hearing and thinking. If the social worker had a lick of sense, Carly and Ryan had nothing to fear. On the other hand, if she was young, inexperienced, and determined to save the world, or perhaps overly cautious, Ryan would be in for the fight of his life.

  With her hand shaking, she returned the card to Kyle. “Did you invite her in?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Do it, then call your dad. If he’s with a patient, tell Fran to interrupt. This is an emergency.”

  Ryan finished with the last patient of the morning and stepped into the hallway. As he headed to his office, Fran waved frantically from the front desk. “Kyle’s on line two. He says Carly needs you.”

  A thousand awful pictures flashed in Ryan’s mind—Penny missing again, a car accident, Carly and his kids injured and headed to the ER. Inwardly cringing but outwardly calm, he snatched up the phone in an empty exam room. “Kyle?”

  “There’s a lady from the county here. She’s some sort of social worker.”

  “She’s what?”

  “A social worker. Carly said to tell you it’s an emergency.”

  “I’m on my way. I’ll call you back from the car.”

  Ryan slammed down the phone, told Fran to cancel his afternoon, then jo
gged to his car without bothering to snag his suit coat. At the first red light, he called Kyle and learned the details about the mustard fiasco, Penny’s shrieks, and Ms. Stuart’s ill-timed arrival. The goop in her eyes didn’t greatly concern him. He could handle it. On the other hand, Ms. Stuart posed an unknown threat.

  A nondescript sedan sat in the driveway, a testimony to the bureaucracy he was about to face. Burying his anger, he strode into the house but paused in the foyer to straighten his tie. If Denise had called DFCS, as it seemed, Ryan was going to war with Denise, DFCS, and anyone else who dared to cast aspersions on his ability to raise his daughter or Carly’s abilities as a nanny.

  He strode into the family room where a tall African-American woman rose to greet him. Everything about her struck Ryan as severe—the navy blue suit with a pressed white blouse, her close-cropped silver hair, even her pointy black shoes and dagger-like earrings.

  She stood and offered her hand. “Dr. Tremaine?”

  He crossed the room in long strides and accepted the handshake. “You must be Ms. Stuart.”

  “I am.” Her eyes stayed locked on his. “Do you know why I’m here?”

  “Not exactly. But I’m fairly certain it has something to do with Denise Caldwell. She’s Penny’s aunt.”

  Ms. Stuart didn’t blink, didn’t twitch. Nothing betrayed her thoughts as she perused his face. “As soon as Penny is finished with her bath, I’d like to speak to her alone. Do you have any objections?”

  “Of course not.”

  She sat back down on the armchair, but Ryan stayed on his feet. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a quick look at my daughter’s eyes. You probably know I’m an ophthalmologist.”

  “Yes.”

  “My son told me about the mustard incident.”

  Ms. Stuart maintained her blank expression, but he detected a hint of suspicion. Did she think he was going to plot with Carly? That was ridiculous. They had nothing to hide. On the other hand, if he didn’t check Penny, Ms. Stuart might consider him negligent. If he was going to be judged, he wanted to be judged for doing the right thing. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment . . .”

  Again, no response. Just those hawkish eyes studying him. Ryan stared back, weighed the needs of the moment, and decided to say a few things to Ms. Stuart before checking Penny. He was ninety-nine percent certain her eyes were fine, while he was a hundred percent certain any hint of collusion with Carly sent the wrong message.

  Ryan faced her. “Before I check Penny, I’d like to clarify a few things.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Kyle tells me you walked into one of Penny’s tantrums.”

  “I did.”

  “I’m sure you thought—”

  “I don’t assume anything, Dr. Tremaine.” She sounded matter-of-fact, even a little tired. He guessed her to be in her fifties, a good sign because it suggested she was experienced. On the other hand, she could have an axe to grind, or maybe a past failure that made her overly suspicious. As a physician, Ryan was required by law to report any suspected child abuse. He’d been in the position just once, and the weight of it still burned in his brain. He was judge and jury when he made that phone call. As things turned out, he’d done the right thing.

  “You have a difficult job,” he said to Ms. Stuart.

  “At times.”

  He was tired of dancing around the visit. “I’d like to know exactly what you’re investigating.”

  “We received an anonymous tip that Penny was placed in a dangerous situation. I’m here to check out her home life and to talk about an incident at the beach.”

  “What incident?”

  Ms. Stuart raised a brow. “You don’t know about it?”

  “I know Carly took Penny to the beach last Sunday.”

  “Were you there?”

  “Part of the time.”

  “So you don’t know everything that happened?”

  “Not everything, but I know Carly. She’d never put Penny in danger. I have to say—” Jaw tight, he took a breath. “I’m relatively certain Denise made this report without the facts and for reasons of her own. I’m going to be blunt, Ms. Stuart. Denise wants custody. That isn’t going to happen. This is Penny’s home. She’s my daughter, and she’s loved and safe.”

  “That’s why I’m here, Dr. Tremaine—to make sure Penny’s safe.”

  “Then we’re in agreement.”

  “Yes, we are. And I assure you, this isn’t my first rodeo.” She gave him another strong look. “I’ve been in the middle of family disputes more times than I can count. If Penny is in good hands, you have nothing to fear. On the other hand, the person who reported the endangerment believes Penny almost drowned.”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “I’d like to talk to Penny before we go any further.”

  “Of course.”

  Ms. Stuart opened a portfolio and made some notes. As she capped her pen, Penny emerged from the hallway with Carly hurrying after her. Ryan took in Penny’s clean face and wet hair, strode forward, and cupped her chin so he could check her eyes. They were red-rimmed but clear. She was no worse for wear, but Carly looked awful. Dressed in her painting clothes, now spattered with ketchup, mustard, and paint, she approached them with a look as detached as the one worn by Ms. Stuart.

  She’d worn that same look while talking to the detective about Bette’s murder. He knew her well now, and that look was a mask. Worried, he turned from Carly and focused on Penny. “This is Ms. Stuart. She wants to talk to you about going with Carly to the beach.”

  “Okay.” Penny waved at her. “Do you like mermaids?”

  “I like mermaids just fine,” Ms. Stuart said with a smile.

  “There’s one in my tent.”

  When Penny scooted away to fetch one of her favorite toys, Ryan called after her. “Tell Ms. Stuart everything that happened.”

  Penny didn’t answer. Not a surprise considering her attention span.

  “Ryan?” Carly sounded tentative, even worried. “Ms. Stuart might not know about Penny’s background.”

  He hoped Ms. Stuart was knowledgeable about FASD, because explaining it was a challenge. “Penny has some special needs. If we could chat a few minutes—”

  “There’s no need,” she said, almost kindly. “The reporting party provided that information.”

  Ryan frowned. “I’m not sure Denise understands—”

  “I’ll speak to Penny first,” Ms. Stuart said. “Then I’ll sit down with you. Now, if you’ll wait somewhere else, Penny and I will get to know each other.”

  Penny popped out of the tent with her mermaid doll. “This is Annabelle. I named her myself.”

  “She’s pretty,” Ms. Stuart replied.

  Carly met his glance, and they slipped outside to the table where he and Denise had interviewed Carly all those weeks ago. So much in his life had changed for the better, and it was because of her. His heart swelled with that forever feeling he didn’t believe in, at least not the way she did. She’d brought light and love to his home, but looking at her now, he saw the pinched look of someone in pain.

  He pulled out a chair for her. “Sit. You’ve had a rough day.”

  “It’s been awful.” She collapsed onto the cushion, slumped forward, and massaged her temples with bone-white fingers.

  Ryan had no right to put his arm around her shoulders or even squeeze her hand. But at that moment, Carly was hurting, and he didn’t give a rip about boundaries. He shifted his chair closer to hers, sat, and lifted his arm, but before he touched her, she scooted her chair a foot away.

  24

  Carly longed to rest her head on Ryan’s shoulder, but she couldn’t allow herself that comfort—not with Ms. Stuart in the house, and not with guilt and a secret eating her alive. Thanks to Denise’s accusations, Carly was reliving the nightmare of Allison’s disappearance, something she had never mentioned to Ryan. Her supervisor’s voice echoed in her mind. “We all make mistakes, Carly. The trick
here is to learn from it.”

  Apparently Carly hadn’t learned a thing, because she loved Penny as if she were her own, and she loved Ryan, too.

  “This is because of Denise,” he said, hunkering forward with his foot tapping.

  “Wrong or not, she thinks something bad happened.” Carly’s conscience was clear concerning Penny, but she was far from innocent when it came to Allison, a problem now because that guilt still stewed in her belly. If she didn’t shake it off, Louanne Stuart would see it and assume Carly was hiding something. All this because Denise had gone nuclear instead of speaking directly to Ryan. “Do you have any idea what she reported?”

  “Something about Penny almost drowning at the beach.”

  Carly bolted upright. “Drowning? She barely touched the water!”

  “I know. It’s insane. But this is Penny. Who knows what story she made up?”

  “This is awful.” Even worse than Carly had imagined. “It could come down to my word against Penny’s.”

  They commiserated for the next fifteen minutes, each of them speculating about Penny’s thought processes without having the facts. People with FASD experienced life through a different lens, sometimes a kaleidoscope of lenses that colored every word they heard, or didn’t hear.

  The slider opened with a metallic whoosh. Carly and Ryan both stood and saw Ms. Stuart, her face as blank as before. “Would you come inside, please?”

  Carly led the way with Ryan behind her. Once indoors, Ms. Stuart motioned them to the kitchen table where her portfolio was open, her notes exposed and ready to be addressed.

  Carly and Ryan sat across from each other, traded a look, then focused on Ms. Stuart putting on a pair of black reading glasses. “Penny is playing in her tent,” she said, looking over the frames at Carly. “That’s an excellent device for a child with special sensitivities. She told me it’s her quiet place, and I had to be invited inside.”

  “That’s the rule,” Carly replied.

  “The reporting party told us you were the nanny. But in talking to Penny, I see far more than the usual nanny skills. If I may ask, what exactly is your background?”