by Jane Toombs
“No, no, your aunt didn’t ask me to do anything. And of course I’m not your therapist. It’s just that I can’t help seeing that you’re in denial about the past. It’s possible—”
His hand sliced the air between them. “Enough! No more jargon. No more analyzing me. Understand?”
“I hear you, but—”
His annoyance sliding into anger, David was about to turn and walk away when he heard a familiar voice.
“Oh, Brent,” a woman said. “There’s David, over by that SUV.”
He didn’t have to look around to know it was Iris, beyond a doubt. She was damn brave to turn up here with that bastard in tow. He swung around.
“Daddy?” Sarah’s plaintive voice cooled his rising rage. He looked at her instead of at the other two, six-year-old Sarah staring at him as though he were a stranger.
He strode over, crouched in front of her and held out his arms. She hesitated, but then came to him and he held her tight for a long moment. When he let Sarah go and rose, he kept hold of her hand while he waited to hear what Iris wanted now. She always wanted something.
She was, he noticed, sleeker and more expensively dressed. She glanced at Amy and frowned. “Perhaps we could go to your apartment, David.”
“Here is fine.” He wasn’t giving an inch.
Iris shrugged. “If you insist. Sarah has come to pay you a visit while Brent and I take our delayed honeymoon cruise.” She laid a crimson finger-nailed hand on Murdock’s arm and smiled up at him.
Murdock hadn’t spoken yet. Now he nodded, murmured something that might have been a greeting, then said, “We’ll be gone at least three months.”
So they were dropping Sarah off with him with no warning, almost as though she were a pet rather than a child. With an effort he forced himself to shut off his anger at the two adults and concentrated on his daughter.
Looking down at her, he told her the truth. “I’ve missed you, punkin. I’m happy you’re here, happy you’ll be staying with me for a while.”
Sarah offered him a shy smile, clinging to his hand as though to a safety line. She didn’t once look at her mother or at Murdock.
“That’s settled, then,” Iris said briskly. “We left Sarah’s things with your aunt. Kiss Mommy goodbye, dear.” She bent and offered her cheek. Sarah kept hold of David’s hand while she gave Iris’s cheek a quick peck.
“Now say goodbye to Daddy Brent.”
Sarah mumbled something unintelligible, her grip tightening on David’s hand.
Daddy Brent. The words made David want to gag.
“Well, then we’re off.” Iris’s bright smile didn’t reach her eyes. Holding Murdock’s arm, she walked toward the white Mercedes parked across the lot, her heels clicking on the blacktop.
“Sarah, my name is Amy.” The words brought David’s awareness back to her.
“Amy’s my friend,” he told Sarah, which wasn’t quite a lie. He couldn’t really call her an enemy just because she’d tried to practice her profession on him without his knowledge or consent. To give her the benefit of the doubt, she might not have realized what she was doing until he brought her up short.
“Your great-aunt Gert made us some limeade and cookies,” Amy told Sarah. “Why don’t the three of us go up to my new apartment and share them?”
Sarah looked at David, who smiled at her. “I know I’m thirsty,” he said, “and it’s very good limeade.”
“Do you live there, too?” Sarah asked him.
“I live in another apartment in this complex.”
“Your father’s cat has kittens,” Amy said. “After we finish our snack I’m sure he’ll take you over to see them.”
Sarah’s blue gaze settled on David. “Kittens? Really? How many?”
“Four.”
“Mommy won’t let me have a kitten ’cause she doesn’t like cats,” Sarah confided as they climbed the steps to Amy’s apartment. “He had a dog, but Mommy made him give it away ’cause it smelled, she said. It sort of did but the dog liked me, I could tell.”
David found himself elated when she referred to Murdock simply as “he.” Obviously she didn’t think of him as Daddy Brent.
“You like animals, don’t you?” Amy said.
Sarah nodded.
In Amy’s apartment, Sarah finally let go of his hand to climb up onto a stool at the kitchen counter. She sipped at the glass of limeade Amy handed her, looking down at the glass, rather than at either of them.
David had mentioned his daughter had a limp, Amy thought, but it wasn’t noticeable. Possibly because she wore what looked like orthopedic shoes. One could have a lift inside. Her eyes were the same gorgeous blue as David’s. Except for her momentary animation over the kittens, Sarah seemed quite shy. A quiet child often was a child with problems.
“Have a cookie,” David said, pushing the basket of cookies toward Sarah. When she hesitated, he added, “It’s okay.”
She took one, nibbling at it.
“If you like, you can take the cookie with you,” Amy said, certain that the little girl must be eager to see the kittens.
David drained his glass, grabbed another cookie and slid off his stool. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
He glanced at Amy and she could see his indecision, see him weighing the odds—should he ask her to join them or not? She figured he wouldn’t. For one thing he was peeved with her and for another, he must want to get reacquainted with his daughter.
“Want to come?” he asked, surprising her.
“Just for a moment to see the kittens,” she told him.
She stayed long enough to watch Sarah drop to her knees beside the box, her face rapt as she gazed at cat and kittens.
“Your father named two of them,” Amy said to her. “Hobo’s the mother and Sheba is the tiny black one.”
David took Sarah’s hand and held it close to Hobo’s nose for the cat to sniff. “This is Sarah,” he said. “She’s my daughter and your friend.” He let go of Sarah, reached into the box and picked up the black kitten. “Hold out your hands,” he told Sarah.
When she did, he deposited the kitten onto her palms. “Look,” he said, “Sheba’s eyes are beginning to open. Kittens keep them closed for a week or so after they’re born.”
Sarah studied the kitten intently. “Just a little open,” she said at last. “Do you think she likes me?”
David glanced at Amy as if for help, so she answered. “Sheba’s too small to know about liking yet, but I’m sure she feels safe with you holding her because you’re so very careful.”
“I like her,” Sarah said. “I like her best of all.”
“That’s good,” David told her, “because Sheba is going to be your kitten.” He lifted Sheba as he spoke and eased her down next to her mother. “Right now she needs to eat like her brothers and sister.”
Sarah stared at her father, awestruck. “I get to have my own kitten?”
“You sure do. After all, I have my own cat.”
Sarah digested this, finally smiling broadly.
Amy knew an exit cue when she saw one. “See you guys later,” she told them. “Welcome to Tourmaline, Sarah.”
After the door closed behind Amy, Sarah turned to her father. “Do you think Amy likes me?”
What was all this business about worrying whether animals or people liked her? he wondered. He didn’t recall his daughter being so unsure of herself before.
“I’m willing to bet she does.”
“She’s nice.”
“Yes, she is,” he said absently, troubled about Sarah. Had he ever in his life told her he loved her? He was ashamed that he couldn’t remember. Unable to get the words out now, he tousled her hair. “I’m sure glad you’re with me in Tourmaline, punkin,” he told her.
She giggled. “You used to call me that before.”
“And you used to tell me you weren’t a pumpkin, that pumpkins were round and orange.”
Her pleased grin was his reward for remembering.
�
��You never met your great-aunt Gert,” he said. “We’ll be going over there in a bit to get your belongings.”
“I’m going to stay here with you?”
“You sure are.” He tended to use the second bedroom for storage, but it did have a single bed in it. “I didn’t know you were coming or I would’ve fixed your room up better. Just as well, this way we can do that together.”
“Mommy says Great-aunt Gert is a psychiatrist.” Sarah pronounced the difficult word precisely, as though she’d been drilled in saying it.
“Right. Do you know what that means?”
“He didn’t think I heard him, but he said she takes care of crazies.”
David managed to conceal his spurt of anger. “Psychiatrists are doctors who help people who have problems,” he told her.
“Maybe she won’t like me.”
“Hey, kid, she’ll love you. Trust me.” Now he found he could say it. “I love you and she will, too.”
Her expression showed such doubt it made his heart ache. Why shouldn’t the poor kid doubt him? He hadn’t so much as written her a letter in over an entire year, much less made any effort to see her.
He could apologize, but what would that mean to a six-year-old? What he had to do was gain back her trust. Somehow.
At Gert’s he had to coax Sarah out of the truck, and she clung fiercely to his hand as they walked up to the back door. Gert must have seen him pull into the drive because she had the door open before they got there.
“Hello, Sarah,” she said. “Welcome to Tourmaline.”
Sarah gaped at her. “Amy said that.”
Gert smiled. “We both say welcome to people we like.”
“You do?”
After nodding, Gert invited them inside. “Would you like to shake hands with me, Sarah?” she asked.
After some hesitation, Sarah released David’s hand and held hers out.
“There, now we’re introduced,” Gert told her, “and we can start learning how to be friends.”
After grasping his hand again, Sarah said, “Daddy introduced me to Hobo.”
“Good for him. Cats make great friends.”
“And he said Sheba is my very own kitten.”
Gert glanced at David. “Every little girl needs a kitten.”
“We’ll visit longer another time,” he said. “Right now I need to borrow some single sheets if you have any, plus pick up Sarah’s stuff.”
“I have some stored in the cedar chest. How about a quilt to go with them?”
“Great.”
While Gert went to get the sheets, David found Sarah’s belongings in the hallway leading to the front of the house. With Sarah clinging to his hand, he had to stack the two suitcases, one under his arm, holding the other by the handle. Sarah insisted on trotting out to the truck with him while he loaded them in. He couldn’t blame her for feeling insecure—her life had been radically changed in the last year.
Back in the house with Sarah, he collected the sheets and quilt from Gert.
“You don’t keep any of them in your house, do you?” Sarah asked suddenly.
“Keep what here, dear?” Gert asked.
“Crazies, like he said.”
“Murdock,” David muttered, damning the man.
“No, I do not,” Gert said. “You needn’t worry about that. Sometime, when we know each other better, we’ll talk about what I do. All right?”
Sarah nodded dubiously.
When they were driving back to the apartment, Sarah said, “Great-aunt Gert’s sheets smell nice.”
“That’s from the cedar in the chest where she stores them.” He wanted to discuss the “crazies” business, but decided to leave that up to Gert. How had she known exactly the right thing to tell Sarah when they went in, that saying welcome to someone meant you liked them? He shrugged. Obvious. Gert was a shrink, after all.
“She said she liked me,” Sarah told him, as if reading his thought.
“Pretty soon you’ll run out of fingers to count all the animals and people who like you, punkin.”
Sarah giggled. “I’m not a pumpkin.”
He wanted to pull over and hug her, to never let her go, to keep her safe always. Instead he said, “You’re not? From where I sit, you look pretty round and orange to me.”
“Oh, Daddy, you’re so silly,” she told him, still giggling.
Her words warmed his heart.
Chapter Six
David didn’t sleep well that night, mostly because he feared Sarah would wake in a strange room and be frightened. But she slept soundly. By morning, he decided he needed help to make certain he didn’t do anything that might upset his daughter. He knew he couldn’t ask his aunt, because Sarah was her grandniece and there was a rule about it being unethical for shrinks to treat relatives. Even though he didn’t want Sarah treated, exactly, just advice about what he should or shouldn’t be doing, he was sure Gert would refer him to someone else. Who?
Amy. Right. She wasn’t a relative and Sarah seemed to like her. He was over his irritation at Amy, convinced she hadn’t deliberately tried to analyze him. He’d set her straight about never doing it again, even involuntarily. She must realize now that, whether it suited her or not, the way he was suited him. Sarah was a different story. For one thing, she needed to gain more self-confidence.
He couldn’t call Amy since her phone hookup wouldn’t be in till Monday. Glancing at his watch, he decided she might not be up yet. As he made coffee, he pictured her lying asleep in the bed he’d assembled yesterday. If he knocked on her door right now and woke her, would she answer the door in whatever she wore to sleep in?
Hobo came into the kitchen and wound around his ankles, breaking his reverie in the nick of time. Much more and he’d have been at her door trying to find out. He was feeding the cat when Sarah appeared, rubbing her eyes, reminding him he wasn’t exactly free to act on impulse.
“I looked at Sheba, but she was sleeping all curled up with the others,” she said. “So I didn’t pick her up.” Her uncertain expression told him she was waiting for approval.
He nodded. “Kittens need a lot of sleep. Want to help decide what we’ll have for breakfast?”
Before she could answer, the doorbell rang. He opened the door to Amy, who entered carrying a basket covered with a napkin.
“Hi, David and Sarah,” she said, lifting the napkin. “I made some blueberry muffins.”
“Hi, Amy,” Sarah murmured.
David drew in the mouthwatering scent and smiled. “Can’t recall when I last had muffins for breakfast. Sit down and join Sarah and me.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Hey, you made the muffins, you get to eat them with us. Right, punkin?”
Sarah nodded. “Only I’m supposed to get dressed first.”
“School’s out, right?” Without waiting for an answer, he went on. “This is vacation time so we get to lounge around in our nightclothes if we want.”
“You’re dressed,” Sarah pointed out.
“That’s because I’m a man and we’re entertaining a lady. Since you’re a lady, too, you can wear your pj’s in front of her.”
Sarah glanced from him to Amy and back, finally saying, “Okay.” She climbed onto a counter stool.
Thanks to Gert’s reminder to stop for milk yesterday, Sarah had a mug of milk while he and Amy had coffee. He realized there were going to be other things he’d need to be reminded about. Lots of others. When it came to six-year-old girls, he knew next to nothing.
When they finished eating, Amy said to Sarah, “Do you take a bath at night or in the morning?”
Sarah lowered her head. “At night, only I forgot last night.”
She meant her father forgot to ask, David thought.
“So you can take it this morning for once,” Amy said. “No harm done. Do you run the water yourself?”
Sarah nodded but looked hesitant.
“Since you’ve never used this bathtub before, why don’t I go
in with you?” Amy said. “You probably won’t need help, but just in case.”
The relief on his daughter’s face was obvious as they left the kitchen.
David cleaned up their dishes while they were gone. After about ten minutes, Amy came back to the kitchen alone. “Sarah’s in the tub,” she told him. “She’s quite capable for her age, but terribly unsure of herself.”
“I’ve noticed.” David cleared his throat. “I’ve been wondering if you’d sort of help me with her. I don’t mean therapy, just to tell me the right things to do.”
Amy eyed him. “The first thing is to establish a good relationship with Sarah. You two need to spend quality time together, whether it’s going places or simply hanging out together.”
He frowned. “I can handle taking her places, but what places? And how the hell am I supposed to know how to hang out with a six-year-old girl?”
“You once were six.”
“Yeah, but I was a boy.”
“You were a child at six and so is she. What did you like to do then?”
David thought back. “When we visited my grandfather, I got to ride a pony. That was my cowboy period.”
“A pony’s no problem. I think I mentioned my brother has a horse ranch just up the road in Carson Valley. My nephew has a pony Sarah can ride. Also, I saw a Camel Rides sign while I was driving to Tourmaline. I bet you never got to ride a camel.”
“I bet you never did, either,” he countered.
“Right, but it’s a possibility for Sarah. She’d be safe enough if you held her.”
“You want me to ride a camel?” His voice was tinged with disbelief.
“Why not?”
“Hey, you thought it up, you have to come, too. We could go this afternoon.”
Amy blinked. “Well, I—”
“Scared?”
She shot him a dirty look. “No more than you. Seriously, though, you and Sarah need to do things together, just the two of you.”
“Okay, we will during the week. This is Sunday and so the three of us can ride camels together.”
She sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to.”