The Forgotten Child

by Eckhart, Lorhainne

  Her little blonde princess clapped and squealed with glee, holding her arms out for her mama. The rusted hinges on the van door squeaked when Emily gave it a shove, just as Katy landed in her arms. Emily inhaled her baby soft scent and held her tight, kissing her over and over on her plump round cheeks. “I’ve got the job, baby girl and we start tomorrow.”

  “Yeah! Oh, I knew you could do it.” Gina punched her lean arms in the air before pulling her and Katy into a hug. “It’s freezing out here, come on. So tell me everything, details, details. Who you’re working for?” Gina clapped her hands to hurry Emily inside.

  Emily left her coat and shoes on as she carried Katy into the darkened living room, where her worn out brilliant green couch had seen better days. She dropped into her Scottish plaid glider rocker and let out a sigh, a contented sound, like every burden inside was gone. She put Katy down on the ugly beige carpet where she toddled off to pick up her dolly with blue ink stains streaked across its plastic face. Emily watched as she plopped the doll into the doll-sized stroller parked by the fireplace and began to push her around the living room. “We need to move to his ranch.”

  “Move, why?” Gina perched across from Emily on the edge of the dark green sofa.

  “The job’s full time care of his young son. He’s a single father and runs the ranch alone. He needs someone there to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner. It’s what I do now, except now I’ll be getting paid for it.”

  “Does he have a house on his property for you to live in?” Gina flattened both her hands across her knees.

  “We’ll be moving into his house. It’s large and there’s enough room.” There was a slight hitch in Emily’s voice. And Gina being Gina, never missed anything and could make anyone trying to keep the slightest detail from her squirm, narrowed her dark brown eyes and stiffened her spine as she leaned forward.

  “Call it a gift from my mother side, but honey I’m one Irish Italian girl you can’t pull nothing over on, and there’s a whole schwack of problems with that arrangement and I know you’re holding something back from me. So you may as well spill it, all of it.”

  Emily looked up at the low dingy stucco ceiling and rocked the squeaky chair. She answered without meeting the narrowed eyes that burned another layer off Emily’s protective shell. “He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever met, and arrogant and unforgiving, and I humiliated myself like the bumbling, socially inept idiot that I am. And Trevor, that’s his little boy, the mother’s not around. I don’t know what happened to her, but it’s evidently a sore point with him. One he’s not willing to discuss, and he doesn’t hold her too highly in his regard, which I suspect is where he puts all women.”

  “Oh, I see.” Gina rose to her feet when the kettle whistled from the kitchen. She walked around the bargain basement square coffee table and paused. “Emily darling, you best make sure you go into this with both eyes open. I see that dreamy look you’re trying your damnedest to hide from me. Don’t forget, you’ve just kicked out a no good for nothing dog. You’re vulnerable, guys, predators who’re up to no good read that, will take advantage. Make sure this stays business. Because right now you’re on the rebound and I know you’re dreaming about meeting a real man, except you need time to heal first. So you best hide that googly eye drool and forget you think he’s the finest looking man you’ve ever seen, so he doesn’t go and take advantage of you.”

  Emily felt the downy hair on the back of her neck rise like thorny barbed wire. How could Gina say something like that to her? So what if it was true? She couldn’t shake the irritation caused by Gina’s blunt implication that she was so much of a ditz that she’d check her brains and fall at this guy’s feet. She had good sense and sound judgment. How dare she?

  “Oh knock off the wounded pride thing.” She hadn’t moved. The kettle still shrilled in the kitchen. So Emily gripped the arm of the rocker and started to get up.

  “Sit down, Em. As your friend, I have the right to point out some potentially dangerous pitfalls. Friends watch each other’s back, especially when we’ve checked our heads in the nearest closet. This hot to trot arrogant guy’s your boss. You make sure you protect yourself. He sounds volatile and men like that can be real jerks. You’re living in his house. Different rules apply, a mutual respect for one. Katy will be there; make sure it stays comfortable for her.”

  Gina leaned down and kissed Emily on the forehead, and then raced into the kitchen to silence the piercing kettle. Emily closed her eyes and rocked. When Emily opened her eyes, her bright blue-eyed angel watched her as if she understood every word and knew what sudden change was about to happen.

  Emily reached out her overworked hand with short, square nails and torn cuticles—a hand she knew would never be featured on any ivory dish soap commercial. They were dry, plain and serviceable. But her darling Katy didn’t care. They were filled with love and that’s all Katy wanted as she gripped Emily’s fingers and climbed on her mother’s lap.

  Gina called out from the kitchen. “So how soon do we move you?”

  Emily couldn’t keep the lightness from invading her voice. She smiled lovingly down on her daughter who rested her pinkish cheek against Emily’s full breast, her eyelids lowered, becoming too much of an effort to keep open, while she sucked her soother. “As soon as I can pack. Brad would like us there like yesterday.”

  Gina reappeared through the archway dividing the kitchen from the small living and dining room. She leaned against the cheap looking white wall beside the fireplace as she frowned. She crossed her arms as a sharp twinkling of light sparked in her eyes, and then rubbed her chin with her index finger and thumb, back and forth, a telltale sign Gina was formulating plans.

  “I’m taking Katy to work with me tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll make some calls, get people here to help pack. But that’s after you go to work tomorrow and, if all’s well and this turns out to be the blessing you so deserve, you can give notice to your landlord tomorrow night. Not before.”

  She was good and Emily knew if there ever was a crisis, Gina was the one you wanted in your corner to handle things. A former secretary, producer and the driving force behind her husband’s successful glass shop. You were wise to hand her the keys and let her handle things. These mundane details could overwhelm Emily, where Gina could step in, dissect and arrange a sound viable plan, with color-coded categories highlighted on the notes she was sure to produce. Yah, she could hardly wait.

  The next morning before Bob left, Emily dropped the little bomb that she’d obtained a job and would be moving. His glowing response, which was not unexpected, with flushed cheeks burning crimson, was his mouth falling open from obvious shock. Oops, guess she read that right. He’d expected her to land flat on her face, but to hell with him and his expectation for her to come crawling back. Hell would freeze over before she’d ever consider it. No, she was almost free. And to prove it, Gina arrived right before Emily left for her first day of work at the ranch with three pages color coded by priority. What Emily needed to do, along with numbers and contact names, which included the lawyer to handle her legal separation, the gas and electric company, notice to the post office for change of address and one page of sensible questions to ask Brad, which Emily, in her fog of excitement should have thought of, but didn’t.

  Wow! She scanned the checklist, hugged Gina and then hurried with Katy to the van, in awe of the organizational skills of this woman.

  And even though Gina offered once again to keep Katy with her this morning, Emily knew how imperative today was. Today with Katy would be to the test the waters, sink or swim, as the old saying goes, and find out just how smoothly—she hoped, no believed, it would go. “It’ll work out.” It had to, since she was uprooting Katy to a home that wasn’t hers. Children needed stability so as Emily drove through the familiar gates of Echo Springs, past the split rail fence framing each side of the long winding, well-treed entrance, where the dirt and gravel road looked freshly grated. Emily felt a sudden spi
ral rise from the pit of her stomach up through her chest, as if she’d been drop-kicked into her future, without having any chance to analyze, a.k.a. question her sanity, and back out.

  And it was a good thing too, since Brad was waiting outside his lovely Victorian in the bare front yard. All that pure, masculine power, six feet two inches of ruggedness. How could a man wearing a worn tan barn jacket exude all those damn fine, good-looking vibes? “Oh shit.” Without Katy to keep her distracted from those magnificent see-right-into-your-soul whiskey colored eyes, she’d probably trip over both her feet.

  Emily parked her van and focused on taking the keys out and zipping up her purse. When she looked up through the window, Brad lifted a little boy bundled in a dark blue hoodie up onto his shoulders. He swaggered toward Emily in a way that said he owned, and was proud of, this land. Emily opened her door and tried to contain the shake in her hand. She slammed her door and hurried around to the passenger side to slid the side door open.

  “You made it.” She could smell his earthy fragrance, no sandalwood, as she craned her neck up. His smile was intoxicating and today he was much more relaxed, nicer. Maybe, if he’d be a jerk again, she could relax.

  “We did.” Okay how stupid was that. Emily turned away before her face grew any redder and focused on unbuckling Katy from her booster, and lifted her.

  “So who’s this?” His voice was teasing, light and riddled with tenderness. He was a different man from yesterday and he didn’t ignore Katy, just the opposite, he reached over and tickled her chin. Hooray, another completed checkmark on Gina’s detailed laundry list—the list to reorganize Emily’s life.

  “This is my daughter Katy. Katy, this is Brad, the man I told you about.” She giggled and clammed up that sweet pert little mouth, in a too-shy ploy she always launched upon meeting anyone new. Emily was positive this was just the beginning of the ploys she’d play on many a man to wrap around her finger. “Sorry, she’s shy, but wait until she warms up to you, then she won’t stop talking.”

  He laughed with such genuine warmth, for an instant Emily wondered if he was the same difficult man she’d met yesterday. Trevor bounced on Brad’s shoulders reciting a “Blib, blib…” until Brad put him down. He wandered to the wide rock path that led up to the front steps.

  “Is this Trevor?”

  “Yes, that’s my boy.” Brad shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched over his son.

  “Hi Trevor, I’m Emily…” The little boy never turned toward her, he had no interest in her or Katy.

  “How old is Trevor?” The hardness was back in Brad’s face. He didn’t look at her.

  “Three.” He cleared his throat roughly.

  Trevor stopped in the middle of the rock path and dropped to his knees. He started digging with his tiny little fingers around a rock. “No Trevor.” Brad lunged and swooped Trevor up.

  “No, no, no.” Trevor screamed over and over, flailing at Brad. His tiny-fisted hands smacked Brad on the nose.

  “Stop it, Trevor. Emily’s here, remember I told you she’s going to look after you.” But he didn’t stop his screeching. In fact, he changed the words to a “whee, whee, whee” thing as Brad held his hand. “He’s must be tired, all this newness with you here is throwing him off.” Brad shouted over his stiffened shoulder.

  His anxiety was back, but of course, what an awkward moment. Was the kid always like this?

  “Come inside Emily, I’ll get Trevor some crackers, and then you can get started.”

  Katy remained quiet and still in Emily’s arms, as they both watched Trevor at a safe distance. Emily shifted Katy in her arms and followed a tense and ill at ease Brad into the house.

  What a difference the house was today. The neat and tidy living room with upscale leather furniture and hardwood flooring that would showcase in any home and garden magazine was a complete mess today. Emily stepped over plastic toys, puzzle boxes and pieces scattered from one end of the room to the far wall by the kitchen, with wool blankets and two afghans hanging over the sofa and scattered on the floor—a rough night or morning or something. The kitchen wasn’t much better. Brad yanked open the lovely white cupboard door, the one with the tempered glass center, and grabbed a box of cheese crackers with a cartoon character on the bright red box. Katy tightened her hold around Emily’s neck, as the kid screeched louder.

  But Emily couldn’t get past the dirty dishes, cereal boxes, discarded food packaging filling the sink and covering every bit of counter space. And the odor, what was that smell?

  She turned in a circle and had to lift her foot off the sticky floor. Even though this kitchen had been recently remodeled with upscale appliances, cupboards and maybe a really nice teal green slate countertop, she wouldn’t swear to it considering the state it was in.

  His eyes were on her, watching her, as a frown deepened those tired lines around his eyes. She sensed him pull back, in the way men do when they think you’re judging them, which she wasn’t, or maybe he half expected her to turn and run out the door. “Well, I better get started, if anyone’s planning on having lunch, it’s going to take me a good hour or two with the kids to look after to clean up this mess.”

  Brad flushed. “Look, I’m sorry about this…” He gestured with a hand that held the boxed crackers. “If this is too much for you to do and look after both kids…” He didn’t finish the sentence as gravel spewed from the sound of a heavy truck pulling in followed by a short blast of a horn. Emily faced the narrow hallway that led out the back of the kitchen to a back door. What sounded like a large man stomped up what she presumed were the back steps, the hinges squealed on the screen door right before the inside door, with the curtained tiny glass window, pushed opened. “Hey Brad, Dudley’s here with the feed for the cattle, we need you out here.” The other big man hovering in the doorway, must have been six feet, was wearing a plaid wool shirt with an orange baseball and what looked like several days since he’d last shaved.

  Emily turned to look at Brad who closed his eyes and shook his head. “Shit. Sorry, Emily, you’re on your own. I’ve got to take care of this. He held out Trevor to her as he shoved a handful of crackers in his mouth. Emily put Katy down beside her and Katy being unsure, promptly gripped her mother’s black jeans just below the knee.”

  “Okay, I’m not really…” Brad paid no attention at all, as he hurried to pass her Trevor, along with the cracker box. He didn’t spare her a passing glance.

  “See you at lunch.” And then he was gone out the back, past the whitewashed, dated paneling that filled the narrow hall, pulling the back door closed behind him. Emily couldn’t believe it. She stood there holding a quiet child who had no interest in her. He should have been big eyed, maybe even scared of the stranger holding him. The only interest he had was the box of crackers.

  “Mama.” Katy tugged on her jeans then shoved her thumb in her mouth and reached her arms up. “Oh Katy bug, I can’t hold you both.” Emily squatted down and sat Trevor on the floor. When she tried to stand with the cracker box, Trevor screeched, “na, na, na.” Holy crap was he loud.

  “Here you go, no need to act like that. Use your words.” Emily handed him the box of crackers. Again, he wouldn’t look at her. For a minute, she worried he’d choke he was cramming them in his mouth so fast. Katy tapped her leg and pointed to the box. Of course, she wanted some. “Katy, how about a banana instead? She dropped her bag on the sticky cluttered table, and pulled out a banana leaving Katy’s box of organic rice crackers out of site. She slid out a wooden chair and sat Katy down. “I should have brought your booster seat. I knew I forgot something.” Emily slipped off her coat and rolled up her sleeves, scanning the rectangular, neglected kitchen filled with unfinished food, a sink overflowing with cups, dishes and slimy, dirty dishwater. The large white propane stove was grease covered and littered with dirty pots. She shot a harried glance at the back door, where Brad escaped. So he’s not infallible; that thought put them on even ground.

  Chapter Five

/>   She’d made good time. As she glanced at the clock it only took two hours to scrub every pot, load the dishwasher, running it twice, but that was after she’d soaked and scraped off the dried food. Did he have to dirty every dish in the house?

  Trevor was a different story; she’d never seen a child so happy to play alone. Katy tried twice to share her dolly and even picked up one of his toy cars and played beside him on the carpet. He’d ignored her, until she’d picked up the green car he lined up in straight line across the coffee table. He screamed a high pitched, shrill cry as if he’d been hurt; Katy of course, starting crying and dropped the car. Trevor, without looking at her, grabbed the car and put back in its specific spot, in line. Except now, he was making a “whop, whop” sound. Emily hugged Katy and took her in the kitchen, then set her up with her Dolly away from Trevor. Emily asked Trevor what was wrong and asked him not to scream but to use his words. He ignored her. She’d need to talk to Brad; this seemed odd for a child to act this way. Maybe he had abandonment issues. And she pondered that while she cleaned and searched the sparse pantry for something edible to feed everyone for lunch.

  Emily was stirring the soup on the stove when someone knocked on the front door. She turned off the propane, and hurried to the door, glancing at Trevor and Katy watching Dora on the big screen TV; actually Katy sat on the sofa and watched, Trevor was bouncing on both feet two inches from the TV screen.

  Emily opened the door to a short guy wearing a brown hat. “Delivery for Brad Friessen.”

  “He’s out back, do you need a signature?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but you can sign for him if you swear he lives here and you’ll give it to him.” The guy chomped on a piece of gum and grinned. Guess that was his sense of humor.

  Emily signed for the package and closed the door. A loud crash and what sounded like glass shattering echoed from the kitchen.