She was trying not to smile. He smiled himself. Encouragingly.
“You realize this is a very thin story,” she said. “But I’ll tell you, provisionally, as a family member, that Ms. Johnson’s on a ventilator with pneumonia. She’s still alive, and that’s about all they can say.”
He nodded. “Cheers. Not the best news, but Mum’ll be glad to hear it. She still has a soft spot for her in spite of everything. It’s not easy to lose a sister.”
Another skeptical look, and Lily said, “How about if I became a foster parent? How about that? They wouldn’t let Bailey stay last night even though her grandmother had given her permission to be at my house. I understand that that can’t happen until Ruby can sign something, but how about if I signed up? Wouldn’t that make it go faster?”
“Once a child is in the system,” Charmaine said, tearing her gaze from Rafe, “it’s not that easy to get her out of it. You could certainly apply, though.”
“Good,” Lily said. “Then that’s what I want to do. Show me how. Please. How fast can we do it?”
“If everything checks out,” Charmaine said, “a week or so, if we fast-track it. Since her need is immediate. If you were actually family…” Another glance at Rafe. “It could happen today, but as you’re not, a week or so. If everything checks out.”
“What’s ‘everything?’ Lily asked. “I have a house, I own a successful business, and I have great credit and a clean record. What else? What do I need to do?”
“Fingerprints,” Charmaine said. “Reference check. Home visit. They’ll want to see the bedroom where she’ll sleep, and that the house is clean and safe. Et cetera. You’d have to agree to take the eight-week class on foster parenting, but we could place her provisionally until that’s completed, as long as everything else checks out.”
“Oh,” Lily said. “I have a…a one-bedroom house. Is that going to be a problem?”
Charmaine had been opening a desk drawer, finding a file, which looked like a good sign. Now, though, she looked up and shut the drawer again, which didn’t. “Well, yes. It would be disqualifying. You don’t have to have a separate bathroom, but you need a bedroom. And not a converted garage or a basement, just to forestall you. It would need to be up to code. Separate exit, a door that closes, a safe heat source, and so forth.”
“Oh,” Lily said again. “Could you give me the paperwork anyway? I’ll fill it out right here and now, in the lobby. Could you still start the process?”
“It won’t go through,” Charmaine said. “Not with one bedroom.”
“Yes,” Lily said, and if Rafe had ever thought she was too soft to be strong, he’d been wrong. She was strong, and she had something better than power. She had love. That was her superpower. “It will. You’ll see. It will.”
Bailey was sitting on her bed reading a book about crocodiles. She’d read it before, but she only had two books in her backpack, and she’d read both of them already. They were library books, though, and Lily would get fines if Bailey didn’t bring them back in a week. She didn’t know how long she’d be here.
Thinking about Lily made her throat hurt, so she read some more about crocodiles instead. They were very dangerous. They were mean, too, especially the Australian ones. After they drowned something, they put it in a hollowed-out place in the riverbank and let it rot before they ate it.
Lily had said Bailey could stay at her house, but she’d called the cops instead. Now she didn’t even have Chuck, and her grandma might die. If she died, Bailey would be stuck here until they moved her to another family, and this lady was as mean as the one with the bunk beds. She only had cereal for breakfast and a kind of milk that didn’t taste good, but that wasn’t the bad part. The bad part was that her house didn’t have any other houses around, and Bailey didn’t have her bike anymore.
When she’d asked if she could go for a walk into town, the lady had said, “It’s too far, and you’ll get lost. I don’t have time to drive around looking for you.” She’d had that face like you’d better not argue, so Bailey hadn’t, and she hadn’t asked about the library. Maybe she’d ask tomorrow. She could say she’d pull the weeds or something, so the lady would feel nicer. The yard had lots of weeds, and it didn’t have a garden. The library could be far, but she could walk far, even though it would be easier if she had a bike. And Chuck for company.
Hermione was going to wonder why she didn’t show up to meet her today. She’d think Bailey didn’t want to be her friend anymore. If she found out she was in foster care, though, she might not want to be her friend anyway. Regular kids didn’t be friends with foster care kids, except boys would sometimes, if you could play football. But not girls with cute outfits, whose moms drove them to soccer practice.
Her throat hurt again, so she concentrated on the crocodile book. They could digest animals alive. That was really gross.
She heard a sound like part of a song, which was probably the doorbell, and then a dog barking. It was a little dog, and it barked really high and tried to bite your fingers if you tried to pet it. The lady said the dog—whose name was Bitsy—only liked her. “He’s a one-woman dog,” she’d said. “Leave him alone.” Bailey was glad Chuck wasn’t a one-woman dog. That way, people liked him. Lily would keep Chuck. People liked foster dogs better than foster kids.
Maybe Bailey could say that she’d take Bitsy for a walk. That might be a way to get to go to the library.
The door opened, and she looked up. It was the lady. Bailey forgot her name, and she didn’t want to ask. It had been pretty late last night by the time they’d gotten here.
“Somebody’s here to talk to you,” the lady said. Bitsy was still barking from the other room.
Bailey tried to swallow, but her throat wouldn’t do it. It must be the social worker again. She was getting moved already.
She’d kept her pillowcase packed just in case. She wished Lily hadn’t thrown away the hot dogs. She wasn’t sure how far Kalispell was from Sinful, but if she could escape and she walked all day for a couple days, she could probably get there. She could sleep in the woods under the trees so there’d be less dew, even if she didn’t have cardboard boxes. Or maybe they’d take her to a foster home in Sinful. It would be easier to escape then.
She slid off the bed and picked up her backpack and the pillowcase. The lady said, “I don’t have all day,” so she shoved the book into the pillowcase and took everything with her to the door.
It wasn’t a social worker. It was Lily and Clay. She couldn’t remember his real name. It was him, though. He was standing behind Lily, off of the porch. He had Chuck on a leash, and there was a new bike beside him. It was blue, like her old one, but shinier, and it was a kid’s bike. Her helmet was hanging off the handlebars.
There were three guys on the sidewalk, too. One of them was taking pictures, the same way the guy had done yesterday. The other one had a bigger camera, and the third one had one of those gray fuzzy microphones on sticks. Clay had said people followed him around and took his picture because he was famous. That was stupid, because he was already in the movies. You could just look at him there.
She wanted to run out to pet Chuck, but she wasn’t sure what was going on. “Do I get to go home?” she asked. Lily’s face got funny and sad, so she knew the answer, and she tried to swallow again, and still couldn’t.
“Go outside,” the lady said. “You’re letting out all the air conditioning.” So Bailey did. Clay let Chuck’s leash go, and he ran to her and started licking her legs. She dropped down onto the steps so she could hug him. He licked her face and wagged his tail really hard, and she tried not to cry, but it was hard.
Lily was crouching down, too, saying, “We brought you some books and some clothes, sweetie. And a new bike that’s the right size.” She was trying to smile, but she was crying at the same time. “And we’re going to get you out of here and back to my house until your grandma’s better. We’re working on it right now.”
“When?” Bailey asked. Her gra
ndma wasn’t dead, then. She hugged Chuck tighter.
“It could be a month,” Lily said. “But I’m going to work night and day on it. Night and day. I promise.” Her voice changed. It got fierce, like when she told Chuck to sit. “I’m going to do whatever I have to do, so even if your grandma gets sick again, you can stay with me. I’m going to be a foster home. I’m going to be your foster home.”
Bailey felt like she was going to throw up. “Regular people aren’t foster homes, though,” she tried to tell Lily. “Hardly ever. Not regular people with gardens and bikes and things. I don’t think they let you.”
“They’re going to let me,” Lily said. “You’re going to come stay with me. I’m going to make it happen. What are you eating? How about clothes? What else do you need? Haven’t they given you anything else to wear? You were wearing that outfit last night. Did you have breakfast?”
Bailey heard the door slam behind her, and she stood up fast. The lady came out, and she looked mad. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Who are those guys? Is this some kind of investigation? I didn’t tell anybody they could take pictures of my house. And what are you talking about, taking her? What do you mean, what’s she eating? She’s eating fine. I have no investigations on my record. None. She just got here. How would I get her any clothes yet? I’m not a miracle worker, and I haven’t even gotten a check yet. You think doing this job is easy, with the kids I get? You try it, then. What am I supposed to do, buy every kid a whole wardrobe the second she gets here?”
Her voice had gotten louder and louder, and Bailey scooted down the steps and tried to be quiet until she stopped.
Lily looked mad, too. Bailey had never seen her be mad. Her voice was shaking when she said, “I’m saying you’d better be feeding her, and you’d better be taking good care of her, or you will have an investigation. And never mind. I brought her clothes.” She held out a big bag to Bailey, and Bailey wasn’t sure if she should take it or if it would make the lady madder, but she did.
The bag was heavy. There were three books in it, besides clothes. One of them was the first book of Harry Potter. Bailey had picked it out in the library yesterday, but she hadn’t had a chance to check it out. Another one was the reason the bag was heavy. It was just called Animals, but it was huge. You could tell it had lots of pictures and facts in it.
She didn’t look to see what the third book was, because the lady’s voice got even louder. “Get the hell out of here,” she said. “You can’t come on my property and make false accusations. I’m not talking to any news people, either. Get out.”
Clay—Rafe—said, “Hang on, now.” His voice was really calm and strong, like it had been in the movie last night, before he’d grown claws. “We’re all good here. No worries. We just came for a wee visit to bring Bailey her things, and now we’re going.”
“You’d better be going,” the lady said. “And get that dog off my grass. If he takes a dump out here, I’m calling the cops. Don’t think you’re coming back to check on me, either. The county checks on me plenty, and I pass every time. If you come back making accusations, I’m calling the cops.”
Lily didn’t look at her. She looked at Bailey and said, “You’re going to be at my house very soon. You’re going to be playing with Chuck, and you’re going to be making jam with me and learning to milk the goats. You’ll see.”
She and Rafe walked back to the car, and Chuck jumped in the back, but then he stuck his head out the window, and one paw, too, and panted, like he wanted to stay. But they drove away instead.
Lily said, “Well, I could have done that better. And the publicity isn’t going to help anything.” She was focusing on being right here, on trying not to spiral out of control. And the same two cars were following them.
She’d thought that yesterday would be the end of it. Instead, somebody had scented a story, and it was all starting up again. Yesterday’s photographer had been joined by a TV crew that had filmed the outside of the county building, and had only been stopped by the security guard from barging right in. They’d filmed the whole thing with Bailey, though. What would that do to Lily’s application?
You’d think that having a famous name—or being associated with one—would make everything easier. It wasn’t always true, especially not if it made you look like a lightweight whose whole life was a publicity stunt. Look at how she’d misunderstood Rafe at first. And if you were trying to take on the most important thing of all, responsibility for somebody else’s life… You needed to be serious for that. You needed to be somebody who could stick.
Rafe said, “Nah. You did fine.” Interrupting her thoughts, which was just as well.
“Rafe.” She had to laugh. “I did not do fine. All I did was upset her. Mrs. Whosit. I can’t even remember her name. It’s like my brain is imploding. And I should care that this has all turned into some kind of feature, and I can’t. I can’t care how anybody spins it, unless it keeps me from getting her. What if I did that myself, though, by not keeping my temper?”
He glanced over at her, then back at the road. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and there was nothing wrong with what you said, either. Whatever Mrs. Whosit said about it, she’s going to be just a wee bit worried now about how she treats Bailey, especially because it is on film. When somebody explodes the way she did, it’s because you’ve hit them on their weak side.”
“I’m going to believe you,” she said, “because it feels better.”
He smiled. “Always wise. And however Bailey looked—and I know, it wasn’t good—she knows, too. You kept that hope alive. Where are we going, us and Chuck and the entourage? Back to Sinful?”
“Yes,” she said. “I have someplace I need to go. Somebody I need to see. We may as well drag our pals along.” She rubbed her forehead. Her aches were still there, but she couldn’t worry about them anymore. “I guess you haven’t heard from your agent yet. He probably knows what their angle is.”
“I expect it’s about what you think,” he said. “Are Lily and Rafe building a ready-made family together after all the heartache? Tonight on Open Hollywood: their heartwarming story.” Lily had to laugh. He asked, “Do you want me to come, then?” As calm as ever, and his hands as sure on the wheel. “Or no?”
She could have told him to take his training run. She could have apologized for making him miss his riding lesson. He could still go do it. She’d bet Jo knew how to get rid of journalists on her property. It probably involved a shotgun again. She didn’t say any of that, though. “Yes,” she said instead. “I want you to come. Please.”
“You know,” he said after ten minutes or so, when they were on the highway and Lily was watching a bald eagle soaring high over the valley, riding the thermals, “there’s something you haven’t mentioned, and I feel compelled to mention it.”
It was hard to focus, but she did. “What?”
“You need a two-bedroom house,” he said, obviously choosing his words with care. “And you need it fast. I’m guessing here, but that’s never cheap, especially when you haven’t planned for that kind of spend.”
“I see this offer coming,” she said, “and thank you, but no.”
He sighed. “Lily—if you like, it can be nothing but a loan. I got twenty million for Underworld Rising, and I’m not Antonio.”
“I know you’re not.” She pulled her hair back and tried to focus. So many emotions. She was still back there with Bailey, but right now, she needed to be here. Time to focus on her plan, and on Rafe, because he mattered, too. Everything else was just noise. “It’s not a good precedent, though. It’s not a good start for us, and it’s not a good place for me to go. That’s why I have another plan.”
Rafe had a nickname. Not one anybody ever called him, but he’d heard about it. The Drama-Free Zone. He was calm, he was professional, and he was deliberate.
You know. Boring.
He hadn’t felt like any of that back there. He’d wanted to grab Bailey and make a break for it. He had a little girl wit
h shut-down body language and angry red scrapes over half her body, a wounded woman whose black eye wasn’t nearly well enough hidden by the makeup, and no right to take care of either one of them.
Do what it takes, he told himself. Do what comes next. He let Lily have her silence the rest of the way back to Sinful, and, at her direction, parked on the shady side of the street on Tamarack, a couple blocks from her shop. He ignored the four blokes in two cars who were finding their own parking spaces, opened the windows for Chuck, and told him, “If they try to get in, bite.” Which made Lily laugh.
After that, he ignored the blokes again as he and Lily crossed the street and headed over to a nondescript door at one side of the ski and bike shop. He paused, though, when he’d pulled the door open, turned around, and told his followers, “Private property. Don’t try it.”
They could stand here and film, but if they could get anything from a blank door, he’d be surprised.
Up a set of carpeted stairs, and Lily was pausing outside another door, this one proclaiming it to be Suite 100, home of Hunter Development. She took off her sunglasses and asked him, “How bad is my eye? How obvious?”
“Obvious,” he said.
“Oh. Well, too bad,” she said, and went inside.
He followed her. He was the moral support, he guessed. He’d be that.
Lily stopped at a reception desk, and the woman behind it looked up and said, “Lily. Hi. I didn’t know you were coming in today.” Her eyes slid over to Rafe, and it was clear that she’d seen the latest news, because she didn’t ask Lily about her face.
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