by Cara Colter
A tall, blond-haired girl had obviously just gotten out of the passenger seat and was staring at them with pure outrage in her eyes.
Audrey gasped and seemed to wither before his eyes.
“So, you’re working here?” the girl said. “That’s what you call it now? Working? No pretense that it’s even anything else?”
Simon didn’t care for the inference at all. He barked out, “Who are you?”
The girl’s eyes flashed fire at him. “Who am I? Who are you?”
Great.
A furious teenager with a smart mouth.
He went to roar right back, not accustomed to anyone taking that tone with him, but Audrey put a hand against his chest to stop him.
“Simon,” she said. “This is my daughter. Andie.”
Oh.
This was so bad.
He wasn’t sure why, but he knew it was bad.
“Andie,” Audrey began.
“Oh, save it, mother. I just came to see if you really were working here, and I got my answer,” Andie said. “I heard someone was pampering you with a trip to Morton’s this morning, and I thought it must be a new man. Looks like I was right. Judging by the house, I’d say he has a lot more money than the last guy you threw yourself at. How nice for you.”
Simon had a flash of Audrey with another man and saw red for a moment but held his tongue, somehow. He slipped his arm around Audrey, not caring how it looked to her daughter, because she was trembling and hurt and worried.
The girl turned to him, fire flashing in her eyes. “Please tell me you’re not married, because that was such a mess the last time when my mother went after another woman’s husband.”
Simon’s jaw clenched even more tightly, as he said nothing more than, “No, I’m not married.”
“Well, that’s something. I hope you will be very happy together,” her daughter said. “Just be sure to lock up your liquor cabinet. Mom has a little drinking problem. But you probably knew that already, didn’t you?”
Simon saw that the teenage boy had gotten out of the car at some point. He looked embarrassed and weary and apologetic all at the same time. “Andie,” he said putting his arm around the girl. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
The girl looked vulnerable and hurt for the first time when she stared at him. “I don’t have a home anymore.”
But wasn’t she living with her father? Simon didn’t have time to figure it out because the stupid dog picked that moment to burst onto the scene, whining and barking and then standing guard between Audrey and her daughter.
Did he not think Simon could take care of this and protect Audrey?
Annoyed as he was, Simon almost missed the fact that Peyton was now hovering on the edge of the ugly scene, looking like she did when Simon had lost his temper with his ex-wife or his ex had lost her temper with him.
“So, this is the dog, I guess?” Audrey’s daughter said. “You really expect people to believe you were a glorified dog walker—”
Simon stepped in then, ready to end this no matter what it took. He let himself tower over Audrey’s daughter, drawing himself up into the biggest, baddest, most intimidating version of himself he could manage, something he would normally never do to a girl her age but was willing to at the moment.
He leaned over the girl and whispered to her, “That is my daughter. She’s five. And she doesn’t need to hear any more of this. Do you understand?”
“She understands,” the boy said, showing more guts than most men would by being willing to nearly put himself between Simon and the girl.
Simon liked the kid, gave him major points for that and for working to diffuse the situation.
Audrey’s daughter still looked defiant and furious and reckless in a way he feared many teenagers were, something that scared Simon half to death, thinking he’d one day be parenting a girl like that.
“Peyton,” he said, without turning around. “Everything’s all right, promise. Just take the dog and go to the back porch. I’ll be there in a second.”
“But—”
“Peyton, go. And take the dog.”
He waited until she left with Tink.
Then he feared he was about to have a stare-down contest with Audrey’s daughter.
“She ruins everything,” the daughter said. “You should know that about her.”
Could that actually be true?
Simon just couldn’t make himself believe it.
“Andie, come on. Let’s go,” the boy said.
And finally the girl gave in, letting him turn her around and steer her to the car. She glared at her mother one more time, then let him put her inside.
The boy looked at Audrey. “I’ll make sure she gets home okay.”
“Thank you, Jake,” Audrey whispered.
And then they were gone.
Audrey stepped away from him, eyes wet with tears and said, “That is why I can’t have anything to do with you.”
And then she turned, walked up the stairs and closed the door behind her.
Chapter Eight
So, she drank?
And chased married men?
Expensive men who could take care of her?
Simon stood at the bottom of the stairs to her apartment, on his own driveway, now silent and empty, hating all that he’d heard about her.
Was he just one more expensive man capable of giving her a good life in exchange for having her in his bed?
Surely he wasn’t that.
Surely she wasn’t that kind of woman.
He’d swear she wasn’t.
But the girl was her daughter, and if anyone should know, wouldn’t it be a teenage daughter? All that hurt he’d seen in the girl … that had to be real, didn’t it? Dramatic as teenagers were known to be, he didn’t think the girl could fake that kind of outrage and hurt and make it look so real.
And Audrey hadn’t denied any of it.
Surely she would have, if she could have.
Which reminded him, his daughter had heard the whole thing. He had to make sure she was okay before doing anything else.
He walked around the back of the house and found her curled up in a big lounge chair, with Tink beside her, appearing concerned and trying to either distract or entertain the girl.
Maybe the dog was smarter than Simon thought.
He shot Simon a worried look and whined a bit.
Simon actually scratched the dog’s head, because Simon appreciated anyone who was kind to his daughter.
Even a canine.
He sat down on the end of the lounge chair. Peyton was curled up in a ball and hardly taking up any room at all.
“Is the mean girl gone?” she asked.
“Yes, darling. She’s gone.”
“I don’t like her. She’s mean. And you’re not supposed to fight like that. It’s bad, and it scares people.”
Simon brushed his daughter’s pretty, blond hair back from the side of her face and saw that she’d been crying, something that had the power to nearly crack his heart in two.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that, Peyton. I don’t want anything to ever scare you. Or worry you.”
And he knew there’d been times he’d done both of those things during the breakup of his marriage.
“Who was she?” Peyton asked, her bottom lip sticking out in an adorable pout.
“That was Audrey’s daughter.”
Peyton sat up at that. “She fights with her mother like that?”
Simon nodded.
“She’s not supposed to do that.”
“I know,” Simon said. “People shouldn’t treat others like that. Especially not people they love. But I’m afraid we all do it sometimes. We try not to get upset and yell, but … we do. We should all try to do better, to be nicer to the people we love.”
Peyton looked very serious then. “Do you think she still loves her mother?”
“Yes,” Simon said, reasoning to himself that it took caring deeply to stir up that passionate a re
sponse.
“Do you think her mother still loves her?”
“I know she does. Audrey told me so.”
Peyton laid back down, hugging the dog. “Tink loves me, and I love him.”
“And I love you,” Simon said. “And your mother loves you, too.”
“Did she tell you she did? Because … sometimes … she gets really mad at me, too, daddy.”
Simon closed his eyes and told himself to breathe. That he’d just told her everybody yelled, and that it was true, and that he was as guilty as anybody.
“Well, people get mad sometimes, and they get tired, and sometimes they’re just really worried and scared and they yell. Like that time you almost chased your red ball into the street and a car was coming. Remember that?”
Peyton nodded. “You scared me.”
Okay, so he had yelled at her before.
“I know. I’m sorry. You really scared me. I thought you were going to get hurt, and I had to stop you. I don’t want anything to ever hurt you, darling.”
“But I haven’t run out into the street since then,” she said.
“That’s good. That’s very good.”
“But still …”
“Peyton, I want you to know you can always come to me if you have a problem. You have my phone number, right? You still remember it? You can call me any time, and I’ll come help you. I swear, I will. And I’m sorry we don’t all live together anymore. I miss you so much.”
“I miss you, too, Daddy.” She sat up and flung her arms around him.
He held her tightly, searching for the right thing to say.
The dog whined and tried to nose his way in between them, and then Peyton giggled and sat back down and hugged the silly dog.
At least, she was happy again.
That meant the world to him.
“Peyton, I’m trying to make things better for us, okay?”
“Like … how?” she asked. “Us all living together again?”
Ooh.
Not that.
“Maybe … you and me living together? All the time?”
“And Tink and Ms. Bee, too?”
“And Tink and Ms. Bee,” he said. “Would you like that?”
Her whole face lit up. “Can you really do that, Daddy?”
“I’m trying,” he said. “I’m doing everything I can.”
“But you can do anything! I know you can!”
The faith of a five-year-old. Simon was humbled by it, in awe of it and certainly hoped he’d prove worthy of it.
“I’m going to do my best,” Simon promised. “Now, what do you and this dog want to do with our afternoon?”
“Do you think Audrey’s okay? ‘Cause me and Tink are worried about her.”
“You and the dog?”
Tink whined, as if to say, Yes, he was worried.
Simon was sure the dog couldn’t be that smart.
Still, he gave a good impression of being worried.
“We don’t like it when people fight with us, and we don’t think Audrey liked it when that mean girl yelled at her,” Peyton said.
“The girl was her daughter, remember?” Simon thought at first that would make Peyton worry less—that there wasn’t some random, angry stranger here yelling at someone. But maybe it was worse that it was Audrey’s daughter.
“Me and Tink think we should go see if she’s okay,” Peyton said.
“Darling, I don’t know if she wants to see anyone right now. I think she might want to be alone.”
“Nobody wants to be alone when they’re sad,” Peyton claimed.
Simon took a breath. “Okay, if you really want to do that.”
Tink barked happily and took off running for Audrey’s.
“There’s no way he could understand what I just said,” Simon claimed.
“Of course, he did,” Peyton said, as if there wasn’t even a question about it. “He’s going to find her.”
She got up and went after the dog, Simon following reluctantly after her.
He was sure Audrey didn’t want to see him.
Audrey wasn’t crying.
What was the point?
It didn’t change anything.
And she couldn’t make herself blessedly numb by drinking, as she had before when things had gotten so bad, because she didn’t do that anymore. It had only added to her problems.
Which meant she was stuck, sitting here, feeling awful and sad and upset and lost and alone.
Which was the worst feeling in the world.
She closed her eyes and curled up on her sofa, remembering the lessons of her recent stay in rehab.
Don’t try to run away from your problems. You can’t.
Don’t try to minimize them.
Don’t try to deny them.
Don’t try to numb them with a few drinks.
Just let yourself feel them.
Right.
Just feel awful.
How could that possibly help?
She sat there feeling awful until she heard a knock on her door.
“Simon, not now, please?” she begged. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just—”
The door opened, and the dog shot inside, jumping up on the sofa beside her and licking her face worriedly.
“Tink,” she said, pushing him away with a gentle hand against his chest. “We talked about this, remember? This is just too much.”
He whined but stopped licking her and settled for just staying close.
She looked up wearily and saw Simon and Peyton, too.
Which was a surprise.
“Peyton was worried about you,” he said.
“Oh.” Audrey hadn’t suspected that.
“And Tink,” Peyton added.
“Well, that was very sweet of both of you,” she said.
“We didn’t like the mean girl—”
“Peyton, remember who I told you that was?” Simon jumped in.
Peyton frowned. “Is she really your daughter?”
“Yes,” Audrey told her.
“Why is she so mean to you?”
Audrey let all the breath go out of her at once, leaving her exhausted and clueless as to what to say.
“Peyton?” Simon put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “This is something for Audrey and her daughter to work out between them, not for us to get in the middle of.”
“But I don’t want that girl yelling at Audrey,” Peyton insisted.
“Peyton, honey,” Audrey said. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. Really sorry.”
“I don’t like it when people fight,” she said.
“I know. I don’t, either,” Audrey said.
“Are you really sad?”
“Yes,” Audrey told her. “It made me really sad.”
“Well, me and Tink could try to make you better,” Peyton said, in all seriousness, coming to stand by Audrey and lay a hand on her arm.
“You know, that’s the best offer I’ve had in a long time.” Audrey gave the girl a big smile and then leaned down so Peyton could hug her.
Little arms wrapped around Audrey and squeezed her tightly, making her think of her own daughter being this little and sweet and loving her the way she had back then. The innocence of her love hadn’t survived, but it had been so pure and complete it was enough to break a mother’s heart when it was lost.
Audrey hugged the girl back, and then Tink tried to lick both their faces; Peyton giggled and hugged the dog, and Audrey laughed a bit herself.
She looked up to find Simon still in the doorway, watching them with a hooded expression. He had to have a million questions for her. She dreaded answering them, but she would.
And then if he asked her to leave, she’d do that, too.
Audrey really couldn’t think much beyond that point.
It was just too hard.
She’d have to explore those feelings a bit later, no matter what they’d taught her in rehab.
“You wanna come to the park to play with me
and Tink?” Peyton asked.
“Peyton, no,” Simon said. “We’re going to give Audrey the day off. She worked really hard yesterday, and she’s had a tough day today.”
“But everybody’s happy at the park. It’s a happy place.”
If only the world were that simple.
Go to a happy place and be happy.
Audrey was all for a world that worked like that.
She looked up at Simon, asking if he wanted her to go with them, and he shrugged his shoulders, as if it didn’t matter to him one way or the other.
“Please,” Peyton said. “We can’t leave you here when you’re sad.”
“All right,” Audrey said. “I’ll go.”
Andie couldn’t go home. Not in the shape she was in. Not with her father and Barbie there, fighting,
No way Andie wanted either of them to even know what was going on in her life, much less how upset she was in that moment at her mother.
So she let Jake just drive, and he finally pulled into a parking spot in the park by the lake. She got out of the car and sat down on the hood of the car, leaning back against the windshield. The car engine was warm from both the drive over and the sunshine, and the air was nice and cool. Perfect, almost.
The lake was a lazy blue and quiet and peaceful at the moment.
Andie just laid there and stared at it, Jake standing by her side, throwing a rock into the water every now and then and trying to make it skip across the surface. He wouldn’t try to make her talk, which was nice. He’d just be here and give her some time, and when she was ready, everything would come pouring out. As if he knew all along how to get her to open up to him.
It was so annoying!
She’d get herself all set to insist that she didn’t want to talk about anything, and then the longer they sat there in silence, the more the words fought to come tumbling out.
How did he do that?
Andie would rather try to figure it out than to deal with the jumble of feelings inside of her.
But eventually, Jake’s method of waiting silently won out. Either that or her own anger.
“Can you believe she did that again?” Andie yelled.
Jake shrugged, as if he wasn’t surprised, but he wasn’t mad, either.
“I mean, didn’t she learn anything from the last time?”
