by Jane Toombs
“That’s the spirit. Right now I have a favor to ask of you. I called Cal last night and I’m going over to talk to him this morning. Would you stay with Sarah while I’m gone? I shouldn’t be more than an hour at the most. I was going to leave her with Gert, but Sarah’s—” He paused, the word stepfather refusing to come out. “Sarah overheard the man her mother is married to say that Gert took care of crazies and so she’s still a tad dubious about Gert. She’ll be more comfortable with you.”
“No problem, but do you mind if I bring her over to my place?”
“Fine with me. I’ll pick her up there when I get back and we can decide what time to ride those camels.”
After David left, Amy helped Sarah decide what she wanted to wear, letting her know they were going to ride camels later.
“Real camels?” Sarah asked, wide-eyed.
Assured they were, Sarah chose jeans and a T-shirt. “My daddy’s coming with us?” she asked as she got dressed.
“He’s going to ride on your camel with you. Right now, we’re going to make your bed and then you can come over to my apartment until your father gets back. He’ll pick you up there.”
“Mommy says now that we live in the new place with him, it’s the maid’s job to make the beds.”
“Your father doesn’t have a maid, so here it’ll be up to you to make your own.”
While they were pulling up the bedcovers, she noticed Sarah push something under the pillow. From the glimpse she caught, it looked to be a stuffed animal so well-loved as to be scruffy. It was too early in their relationship to ask about it, so she didn’t comment. As it turned out, Sarah did have a fair idea of how to make a bed.
“Very good,” Amy told her. “I can see you’ll be a real help to your father.”
She got a dubious look. “I will?”
Amy nodded.
Later, with Sarah over at her own place, Amy expanded on that comment. Sitting on the couch with the little girl, she said, “Your mother is who taught you about taking baths and brushing your teeth and when to change out of dirty clothes, things like that. Your father’s been gone for a while so he’s forgotten about those things, and you’ll have to tell him. That’s part of what I meant about helping him.”
Sarah nodded solemnly.
“Now, I’d really appreciate it if you help me sort through a box of odds and ends I’m trying to unpack and we can decide where they’d look the best in my new apartment.”
Hesitant at first, Sarah soon warmed to putting knickknacks around and changing them from place to place. When the box was empty, Amy offered her a black-and-white wooden cat with an extra-long tail, something she’d seen the girl admiring.
“This is for you,” she said, “not only because you’re a good helper, but because I like you.”
“To keep?” Sarah asked.
“Yes. It’s a present.”
Sarah held the small figure as carefully as she’d handled the live kitten, staring down at it. After a moment, she looked up at Amy almost, but not quite, fearfully. “I forgot to say thank you.”
“No, you didn’t, you just said it. Do you know almost every language has words for thank-you?” Amy proceeded to go through French, Spanish, Russian and German thank-yous.
When she finished, she encouraged Sarah to try saying the words. “When your father helps you with something, you can tell him thank-you in German and then he’ll probably say, ‘When I wasn’t looking someone changed my American girl into a German.’”
Sarah giggled. “That’s silly.” Almost immediately she looked stricken.
“It’s okay to be silly sometimes and to make people laugh,” Amy assured her.
After a long silence, Sarah asked, “Can you say pumpkin in those other languages?”
Remembering how David had called her punkin, Amy realized this might be important to Sarah. “You can, I’m sure, but I don’t know the words. I have a French dictionary somewhere around here, though, so we can look up the French word.”
Fifteen minutes later, Amy and Sarah were chanting “citrouille” together, over and over. By the time David returned, Sarah had it down pat. He walked in to find them both giggling.
“What so funny?” he asked.
Sarah looked at Amy, who said, “It’s a surprise, so we can’t tell.”
“It’s a surprise,” Sarah echoed. “For you.”
“I like funny surprises,” he told her. “Right now it’s time for you to meet Tiny Tim. We can pick up subs and drinks for lunch there, put them in a cooler, and picnic somewhere along the Carson River after the camel rides.”
“I don’t know how to ride a camel,” Sarah said.
“Neither do I, neither does Amy, but we’ll find out together.”
Amy wondered what, if anything, the talk with Cal had produced, but she knew better than to ask. This was Sarah’s day. Besides, she’d come close to shattering David’s trust in her with her offer to help him with Cal’s case. She had to be more careful.
“I still have some of Gert’s cookies for dessert,” she said.
“Will I like Tiny Tim?” Sarah asked.
“You won’t see much of him,” Amy told her, “but I bet you’ll like his sandwiches.”
After a stop at the café, they pulled onto the high-way, Sarah sharing the back of the pickup’s dual cab with the cooler. “I never rode in one of these before,” she said.
“Two firsts so far today, then,” David said, “with one more to come. Your first time in Tiny Tim’s, your first ride in a pickup and soon your first ride on a camel.”
“I bet Tim isn’t very tiny,” she said. “I could only see his head, but it looked big.”
“Tim’s over six feet and built like a bear,” David confirmed.
“Sometimes people get nicknames that are just the opposite of what they look or act like,” Amy said. “Like calling him Tiny.”
Sarah didn’t say anything for a long time. “That’s mean,” she finally said.
“Tim doesn’t mind,” David said, “or he wouldn’t have named his café Tiny Tim’s.”
“But nicknames can be mean,” Amy added, “if the person making up the name does it to hurt.”
Sarah said nothing more until they arrived at the camel rides. When they got out she grasped her father’s hand, and when they walked over near the camels, she reached for Amy’s hand as well, staring up at the tall beasts. One turned its head and looked directly at them.
“What long eyelashes,” Amy exclaimed.
“In their home desert, those lashes help keep their eyes safe during sandstorms,” the man standing near the camels said. “If you want rides, the little girl will have to be held by Mom or Dad.”
Mom or dad? Amy realized then they must look like a family, and the thought gave her a pang. If she never married, would she ever have a child of her own? She believed children were better off with a male and a female parent, so she wasn’t planning to be a single mother. On the other hand, she wasn’t planning to marry, either.
The guy’s words jolted David. Dad, yes, but Mom was off on her honeymoon with a cold-blooded traitor. He glanced at Amy and decided she’d be a better mother than Iris could ever imagine being. Too bad Sarah wasn’t her daughter. “Dad’ll take her with him,” he told the man.
Sarah’s tight grip on his hand told him she was scared. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re with me.” His own words made him realize he’d do anything in the world to keep his little girl safe.
Two of the camels knelt down. After being instructed what to hold on to, and what to expect, David was helped onto one by the camel man, who then handed him Sarah.
He found he wasn’t sitting on a saddle exactly, or if it was a camel saddle, it was nothing like what went on a horse. He held Sarah securely with one arm, using the other hand to grip the projection on the front. When the camel rose to its feet, he felt himself slide forward, then was shoved backward. With a side-to-side swaying gait, his mount walked placidly behind the man le
ading it. Too much of this, he thought, and a guy could get seasick.
“Are you scared, Daddy?” his daughter asked him in a near whisper.
“Not much. Are you?”
“A little bit. It’s way high up.”
He risked a glance behind and saw Amy aboard a second camel led by a teenage boy. “Okay back there?” David called.
“I can’t believe this was my idea,” she told him.
He chuckled. “Amy’s sort of scared, too,” he said to Sarah.
When the ride was over and the camel knelt for him to slide off, he heaved a sigh of relief, and imagined Amy and Sarah were glad it was over, too.
“Daddy,” Sarah said, once they were on the ground again, “when I get old enough I’m going to ride a camel all by myself, just like Amy.”
What about just like good old dad? He shrugged. So she admired Amy, nothing wrong with that. He did, too, if differently. He tried to visualize Iris on a camel and shook his head. No way.
Amy joined them, saying, “We made it.”
“A triumph of bravado over sense,” he muttered.
She made a face at him.
“They sort of smell,” Sarah said, “but I got used to it.”
Both adults laughed.
Later, they found a county park that bordered the Carson River and laid claim to a picnic bench. When they finished eating, Sarah got to throw the remnants of the subs to the wild ducks swimming in the river.
“Look, they like me,” she said.
“Do you know why?” Amy asked her.
Sarah shook her head.
“Think about what you’re doing.”
“I’m giving them bread.”
“Yes, you’re feeding them. What do you think will happen when you run out of bread?”
“They’ll get mad at me.” Sarah’s voice was sad.
“Not exactly. They’re hungry so they’ll look for food somewhere else, yes, but it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with ducks. That’s how ducks are. They don’t like people, they like the food people throw to them. So don’t be upset when they swim away.”
When the bread and the ducks were gone, the three of them walked back toward the truck. “We’ll stop and say hello to your great-aunt Gert on the way back,” David said once they were in the pickup.
“She said she didn’t have crazies in her house?” Sarah made it sound like a question.
“You know how when you get sick sometimes you have to go to the doctor and then you get better?” Amy asked her.
Sarah nodded.
“Sometimes people’s bodies don’t get sick, but their mind does, so that they can’t think quite right. Your great-aunt is the kind of doctor who takes care of people’s minds instead of their bodies. When people’s bodies get really sick, they have to go to a hospital to get better. It’s the same with people’s minds. If their minds get really sick, they go to hospitals that take care of minds. So your great-aunt doesn’t have anybody sick in her house with her.”
“Oh.”
“I work with her,” Amy continued, “taking care of people with troubled minds. I lived in her house until I found my apartment, so I know your great-aunt as a friend. She’s a nice person.”
“She said she liked me.”
“Well, she’s certainly not a duck you’re feeding, so you can believe she really does.”
David saw Sarah looking at him as though for confirmation. With some effort he put his annoyance at Murdock for causing this problem aside. Choosing his words carefully, he said, “Sometimes grown-ups say things they shouldn’t. Calling people with troubled minds crazies is like giving them a mean nickname.”
“Kenny calls me Speedy ’cause I can’t run fast,” Sarah said, looking away from them. “He makes fun of me all the time.”
What kind of nasty brat would pick on a girl with a limp? Whoever Kenny was, David wanted to kill him.
“Kenny’s a boy in your class at school?” Amy asked. At Sarah’s nod, she added, “Kenny’s what’s called a bully. He thinks the kids don’t like him so he picks on everyone.”
“He’s mean.”
“That’s because he has a troubled mind and no one is helping him to get over it.”
David well knew Amy’s explanation was right, but he still had an urge to shake the stuffing out of the kid.
“I still don’t like him,” Sarah muttered.
“Why should you?” Amy countered. “It’s very difficult to like those who pick on us.”
“Mommy says I should like everyone.”
“Did you tell her about Kenny?” David asked.
“No.”
David glanced at Amy. What the hell was he supposed to say now?
Amy gave him a little nod and said to Sarah, “If your mother knew about Kenny she might feel differently.”
Let off the hook, David decided there was a lot to be said for having a psychology expert aboard. Especially one who was a chorus girl lookalike.
At Gert’s house, they found her sitting on the front porch.
“We’ve all had a camel ride,” David said.
“I’ve never had the courage,” Gert said. “Come sit here on the glider with me, Sarah, and tell me how the ride went.”
Somewhat reluctantly Sarah obeyed. “I had to ride with my daddy,” she said.
“Because he was too scared to ride alone?” Gert asked.
The little girl looked directly at Gert for the first time, saw her smile and seemed to relax. “We were both kind of scared,” she admitted.
Gert reached for a box on the low table alongside the glider, opened it and handed the box to Sarah. “I thought you might like these to play with.”
Sara began removing tiny cups and saucers. “I don’t have any doll dishes,” she said. After a moment, she added, “Thank you.”
Gert turned to David. “There’s a doll buggy in the attic you might want to bring down for Sarah. And, Amy, you remember the twin baby dolls I had on the dresser in your room? Why don’t you fetch them. Sarah and I will lay out the doll dishes to have all ready for the twins. Then they can take a nap in the buggy.”
David’s glance at his daughter showed him she was engrossed with the tiny dishes, so he left her with his aunt and followed Amy into the house.
When he came down the attic steps with the buggy, he heard tinkling music coming from a bedroom and noticed Amy inside. “Can’t find the dolls?” he asked.
“They’re here, but I remembered the ballerina music box on the chest of drawers. Look at the cute little ballerina going round and round. Don’t you think Sarah would love this?”
Leaving the buggy in the hall, David entered the bedroom, coming to stand beside Amy. “She ought to like it,” he agreed.
He was close enough to breathe in her faint scent of flowers, one he was rapidly becoming addicted to. It was dangerous to start anything with a bed so close by, but he couldn’t resist. Taking her arm, he urged her into a turn. When she was facing him, he bent and kissed her, her lips warm and responsive under his.
As always, her taste, her softness against him sent him spinning, losing control. Because he couldn’t help it, he let the spin continue, holding her closer, savoring her nearness. He wanted more, but he grasped the frayed ends of his control, forcing himself to do no more than deepen the kiss.
Her lips parted to let him in, an invitation he welcomed, a prelude to consummation of a different kind. Which they weren’t going to reach today, not now and not here.
Still, he couldn’t let her go. Never before had a kiss taken him so far so fast. He found her irresistible, and from the way she snuggled closer, he could tell she wanted him, too.
It would happen, he’d make it happen. He’d gone far beyond the notion that one session of sex with Amy would be enough, to wondering if he’d ever have enough.
Amy pulled back slightly. “We can’t,” she said, the huskiness in her voice betraying her need.
Slowly, reluctantly, he let her go.
/> Chapter Seven
David had a place picked out to take Sarah every day the following week. Wednesday it was the local library, and it turned out to be a successful excursion because, as it turned out, Sarah loved to read. It bothered him that he’d paid so little attention to his daughter in past years that he didn’t even know what she liked to do.
Never again would he allow himself to become so involved in his work that family came second. What had it gained him? Betrayal by a man he’d trusted and the end of his marriage. He doubted if the marriage ever could have succeeded, given that he and Iris had so little in common—nothing really except Sarah. But he could have been more of a father.
Wednesday evening he and Sarah were sharing a pizza at home when Amy came to the door.
“No, thanks,” she said when he invited her to eat with them. “I stopped and had Chinese. I came over to bring you this from your great-aunt, Sarah. She thought you might like it.” Amy held out the ballerina music box.
So she’d remembered to ask Gert about it. He’d forgotten.
When Sarah didn’t reach to take the gift, Amy placed the music box on the table and wound it up. The tinkling tune reminded him of holding Amy in his arms at Gert’s.
Sarah stared, saying nothing as the tiny ballerina danced around and around. Suddenly she burst into tears and bolted from the kitchen.
David jumped to his feet, started after her, then hesitated. He had no notion what triggered her outburst—Amy might be better qualified to find out. In any case, tears undid him.
“Do you want me to go after her?” she asked.
He nodded.
He toyed with a slice of pizza, his appetite gone, while he waited. And waited. He was pacing around the kitchen when at last he heard water running and realized Amy must have persuaded Sarah to take her nightly bath. Finally Amy returned.
“How is she?” he asked.
“She’s taken the duck and the submarine she said you bought her yesterday into the tub with her. She told me she chose the submarine and you the duck because you thought every kid needed a yellow duck in the bathtub. I think she’ll be okay now.”
“What in hell upset her like that?”