How much worse it was be to be handed life’s crap when you’re only a little girl!
Tasha set aside her own personal baggage, and tried to figure out the best way to handle this particularly dicey—for her—situation.
Don’t play games. Don’t become overly emotional, or overly involved. What’s needed here is reality—kind, and loving reality.
It was what had worked for her when she’d been a little girl handling life’s crap.
So she left one light burning in the main treatment room, began to hum softly, as she often did when she was alone, and entered the Serenity Room.
This was one of her favorite places in the entire spa. She’d seen clients—her own and others—flip that switch from busy, active life to relaxation as they sat in one of the plush, comfy chairs, or on the sofa. Aided in this transformation by hot packs draped across their shoulders, soft lighting, and music as ethereal as fairies’ wings coming through the wired-in sound system, this room took the client from one hundred to zero in less than a minute.
Every single treatment offered at the spa was designed to give each client at least five minutes of decompression here, first.
Those five minutes had the restorative power of thirty, easily.
Tasha didn’t sit in one of the leather chairs. Instead, she grabbed a pretty blue throw pillow off the sofa and dropped it on the floor in front of the long table that held cups and glasses, and the coffee and tea pots. The table, a sturdy wooden one, was draped with a soft linen table cover that brushed the floor.
There was plenty of room under the table for a person to hide.
Tasha heard a little bit of movement—like a small sneaker being scuffed against the laminate flooring. She smiled. It was seven o’clock in the evening—late for a little one to be here all on her own.
She’d bet one of two scenarios was playing out in a certain two-story house a few blocks to the northeast.
Either the parent who lived there was frantically looking for one misplaced girl child—or he had no idea whatsoever that she was missing.
Tasha would bet on the latter. Not because the parent in question tended to be lax or uncaring, but because the little girl in question was smart as a whip. Intelligent children could be sneaky and cunning, when they believed they had to be.
Tasha sighed and lowered herself down to the pillow. It was time to deal with the situation.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re hiding under there, Bonnie?”
There was a pause, and then a petulant, “No.”
“All right. Will you come out, please?”
Tasha wondered if Bonnie was going to refuse. She hated to have to pull the child out forcibly. In fact, she wouldn’t. She’d call Clay and tell him his daughter was here rather than use any kind of force on the girl, herself.
Fortunately it proved to be a phone call she didn’t have to make. The table skirt lifted, and then blonde-haired, blue-eyed Bonnie Dorchester emerged from her hiding place. She wiggled out from under the table and sat cross-legged, staring up at Tasha.
“There you are. Thank you for coming out from within the shadows.”
“There weren’t any shadows under there. It was really dark.”
“How long have you been hiding in here, sweetheart?”
Bonnie’s answer was a shrug and a sullen-looking pout.
Not my business. Tasha tried to fortify her heart against the girl by repeating those three words like a mantra. Of course, it didn’t work. She softened her voice. “You know I have to take you home, right?”
That got Bonnie’s gaze focused on her. “Do you have to, Tasha? Can’t I hang out with you for a while? Please? I’ll be good, I promise!”
“No, I’m sorry, you can’t, not tonight.” It wouldn’t be a good idea to reward unacceptable behavior, which was the main reason for her refusal.
Tasha mentally shook her head. Right here was why she stopped volunteering as a Big Sister. Her heart always got involved. She’d never been able to find any kind of detachment whatsoever.
All her past training with that charity group as well as her experiences with young girls told her that Bonnie Dorchester was a child in desperate need of a Big Sister. Tasha tilted her head to the side. “You can’t stay with me tonight, and it’s late, so I have to take you home. Unless, of course, you were hiding in here because your father is really a mean ogre who beats you night and day. In which case, I will have to take you to the sheriff’s office, instead.”
Bonnie’s face took on an expression of anger. “Daddy’s not mean to me and he does not beat me!”
No, Clayton Dorchester was the epitome of a good father. Considering the trauma he and his children had been through in the last year, it didn’t surprise her there would be bumps in the road for them all.
Bonnie making her way here when likely she should be in her room doing homework really was nothing more than a bump in the road.
“I know he doesn’t, Bonnie. I know that he loves you very much, and that you love him right back.”
Bonnie’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Shaun says I’m too much trouble and I’m a crybaby and that Grandma Mart is going to make the court give me to her and Daddy is going to let her take me away forever.”
“So you decided to hide out here, instead?”
“I had to come to someplace they wouldn’t look for me.”
Tasha figured she knew what had driven Bonnie to come here, to the spa. She wasn’t certain she knew how it was Bonnie had managed to come in without anyone noticing her. It had been a busy afternoon, but surely someone should have seen her.
That hardly mattered now. Tasha understood that Bonnie considered this a safe place because it was, by and large, a female place. She was a young girl missing her mother, and now she was the lone female in a house full of men. It made perfect sense to Tasha that Bonnie would come here.
“Honey, no one will take you from your daddy. I promise. I’m an only child, so I don’t know this from experience. But all of my friends who have brothers claim they’re just big fat pains in the tush.”
A couple of tears overflowed, and Bonnie wiped them away, even as she gave a halfhearted giggle. “Huge pains. Mark, not so much. But Shaun…” Bonnie harrumphed and Tasha was pleased to see anger overtake the hurt.
In her mind, anger was an emotion far healthier than the desolation that could so easily be born of hurt.
“We need to get going. Will you help me finish closing up the spa, please?”
“Okay.”
Bonnie proved to be an able assistant. She followed Tasha and seemed to be paying very close attention as she straightened the pedicure carts and the towels covering the bottom of the divans. Those comfy bed-like chairs were ready for the next day and the clients who would relax while getting their pedicures done.
Finally, Tasha went back to the ‘kitchen” area, which was where they took their breaks and stored their personal items. She took her purse out of her locker and grabbed her light jacket. In the front of the spa, she looked around the reception area.
“Looks ready for tomorrow. What do you think?”
Bonnie didn’t just agree. She took a moment to look at the display shelves that held lotions and potions and bling. Then she nodded. “Everything’s neat. And it smells good in here. Like…like flowers, but also like candy.”
“We have all sorts of different scents, for the candles and the hand and body lotions,” Tasha said. “There is an entire discipline called aromatherapy that studies the effect of different scents on the mind, body, and spirit. We use essential oils, like lavender. Different scents encourage different reactions.”
Bonnie scrunched her nose. Then she said, “I think I know what you mean. It’s like when I go into Lusty Appetites and Tracy has just taken something out of the oven. Part of me sighs, because the smell of her baking makes me feel warm and happy inside.”
“That’s it, exactly.”
Tasha told herself that she knew where t
he Dorchesters lived because their house was just down from Ginny, Adam, and Jake’s. But the truth was that she paid attention whenever Clay, or his distant cousin, Gord Jessop’s names came up in conversation. She’d seen them about town, and been very conscious of the fact that they had been aware of her. She’d done a pretty good job so far avoiding being close or alone with either man. Tasha had the distinct feeling that time was done.
She’d walked to work that morning, as she often did. Taking Bonnie home really was simply going a little bit further. But it was a nice evening. Valentine’s Day was just past, and the temperatures were already edging into the warmth of spring during the daytime.
“It’s weird not having to wear a coat and hat and mitts and boots in February,” Bonnie said. “I miss the snow.”
“I heard you get a lot of that sort of thing up in Canada,” Tasha said.
“One day last winter we got so much snow that school was canceled. Daddy took a snow day, too, and we all played in our backyard. The snow was up to here.” She put her hand just above her waist.
“Good grief! How were you able to even move?”
“I trudged.” She demonstrated by putting her legs close together and moving in small steps. “I made a really deep trail all over the backyard. It was fun. We all got wet and a bit cold, but when we went inside, we could smell hot cocoa.” She smiled, and then, as often happened, her smile faded.
Tasha had spent enough time with the child to know that she’d had a memory of her mother just then. Probably, her mother waiting to welcome her family inside, the cocoa she’d made ready to serve.
Tasha didn’t have all the details, but she knew the basic facts. Last spring, Bonnie’s mother—Clay’s wife—died suddenly of a heart attack. Only thirty-nine, Victoria Mart Dorchester had passed away in her sleep. Clay had awakened one morning to discover his wife was simply gone.
Grandma Kate had gone north to attend the funeral, and to encourage Clay to bring his family to Lusty.
She also knew that Clay had finally done so mostly because his oldest child had been getting into some kind of trouble—running with the wrong crowd. The temptations of a large city coupled with a teenager’s unresolved grief could be a very bad combination.
Tasha reached for Bonnie’s hand, pleased when the girl accepted. She wouldn’t open a dialogue with her about her loss. But she would let Bonnie know she was available. In her time with the Big Sisters, she’d taken a few courses, because the loss of the female in the family was one of the biggest challenges facing many of her “little sisters.”
They’d turned the corner and their destination was in sight. Bonnie’s steps slowed slightly. “I guess I have to tell Daddy that I left without permission. That’s against the rules.”
“Yes, you do. But I’ll be with you.”
“Do you think Daddy’s going to be mad?”
“Maybe. But does he love you?”
Instead of answering, Bonnie nodded her head.
“Love is strong enough for a little mad,” Tasha said. “It’ll be all right.”
There were just a few steps up to the front door. The houses in this part of Lusty were very stately looking. Tasha wondered about all the families who’d come and gone here, because most of these houses felt happy.
She let the thought go as she raised her hand and knocked. The door was yanked open instantly.
Clay Dorchester, appearing city slick, twice as sexy, and adorably frazzled looked from her, to Bonnie. He met her gaze again, eyes wide, and then he exhaled heavily.
“Thank God.” Then he scooped his little girl into his arms and hugged her tight.
* * * *
Clay had been speechless for what seemed like the longest two seconds in recent memory when he’d opened the door and discovered Tasha standing there. He’d had the immediate thought that of all the times when he’d imagined opening his door and finding her standing on the other side, this was so not the right time. He’d just discovered that not only was his baby not in her room, she wasn’t anywhere in the entire house.
And then he’d looked down and seen Bonnie looking up at him—safe, sound, and with guilt written all over her face.
He had presence of mind enough that when Tasha went to step back, he’d boldly reached for her hand. “Please, come in.”
He chose to believe it wasn’t the desperation in his tone that found her nodding and doing just that.
He used his foot to close the door then headed to the kitchen, Bonnie still in his arms. Their place wasn’t as neat and tidy as Vicky would have kept it, but it wasn’t a pigsty, either.
He led Tasha over to one of the chairs—the one he usually occupied at dinner. Then he sat in Bonnie’s chair, and settled his daughter in his lap.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Can you tell me why you left?”
Bonnie shrugged and didn’t meet her father’s eyes. He had his suspicions that likely Shaun had said something or done something—again—to her to make her run off. Of course, neither of the boys was talking.
He really didn’t expect Bonnie to tell him, either.
His children might fight from time to time like mortal enemies, but they also often formed a solid unit, rarely ratting out the others, not even for high crimes and misdemeanors.
Clay had been forced to accept that solidarity. Except when they used it against him, he thought it a good thing for them to have as siblings.
“All right. Your brothers have already been sent to their rooms for the night, even though it’s early, since they wouldn’t tell me what happened to make you leave. I think it’s time for you to go to yours, too, young lady. Is your homework done?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Then get your pajamas on, and brush your teeth. I’ll be up in a little while to tuck you in.”
Bonnie nodded, her head down. Clay reached out and tilted her face up so he could look right at her. “I love you, muffin.”
Bonnie threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “I love you, too, Daddy.”
Clay closed his eyes, relishing the hug, and the moment.
She slipped from his lap and took two steps toward the kitchen door, and the stairs. Then she stopped, turned, and ran back to Tasha.
The woman didn’t hesitate to enfold his daughter in her arms.
“Thank you for bringing me home, Tasha.”
“You’re welcome, Bonnie. Sleep well.”
Clay’s gaze followed his daughter’s progress until she was out of sight, hoping the couple of moments would give him inspiration as to what to say to his unexpected guest.
He hadn’t been tongue-tied in the presence of a woman in a very long time—not since before meeting Vicky.
Everything with his wife had been so natural—an exceptional circumstance for him. He’d always been an introvert. But with Vicky, there’d been no awkwardness, no shyness. They’d liked each other on sight and had dated after being introduced by mutual friends. It took them barely a month to become engaged. They’d married within the year.
Almost as if we’d known, somehow, there was no time to waste.
“She’s a delightful child, Clay. You should be proud of her. You should be proud of them all.”
“Thank you.” He turned to face her and knew he didn’t need to be tongue-tied at all. Not if he were talking about his children. “Sometimes I need to remember to be proud of them, instead of just being frustrated by them.” And then, because it was Tasha and he sensed the kindness in her, he said, “It’s been a rough year for all of us.”
“I can only imagine—and then, not very well.”
“Would you like some tea? Um…sweet tea.” He grinned. “There have been a lot of changes for us, moving from Toronto to Texas. Tea was more or less a bellwether one.”
Tasha tilted her head. “Because back where y’all are from, ‘tea’ usually comes served in a pot, piping hot and not in a glass filled with ice?”
“Exactly.” Clay smiled, and could
n’t really describe the way he felt when Tasha smiled back.
“Yes, thank you, I’ll have a glass of tea.”
“I used to make iced tea once in a while in the summertime.” Clay got down two glasses and then brought the pitcher from the fridge. “So this is my own secret recipe. Let me know if you’re allergic to citrus.”
“I’m not, no.”
She cocked her head to the side and watched as he poured the beverage into her glass. He poured a bit for himself, and set the pitcher down.
“It’s very light colored.”
Clay said nothing. He just waited while she took a sip.
“Mm…citrus…but not all lemon.”
“Nope, not all lemon.” Clay took a sip to moisten his suddenly dry throat. “Tasha, thank you for bringing Bonnie home. I’d just discovered she was missing. In fact, I was about two seconds from calling the sheriff.”
“She came to the one place she felt certain you wouldn’t look—the spa.”
Clay sighed. He wouldn’t have thought to look there. He focused on his glass. “We’ve had a few rough patches in the last couple of months. But I don’t regret moving us here. Shaun wasn’t too happy with me that I took him away from his friends, but he was headed for major trouble.”
“Big city temptations,” Tasha said. She set her glass down
“Yes, indeed.” He met her gaze. “I won’t ask you if Bonnie confided in you—if she told you why she took off.” He wanted to. The fact that Bonnie had hidden at the spa—he didn’t believe for one minute it was because she thought he wouldn’t look for her there.
He believed that Bonnie had gone to Tasha, not the spa. My baby’s drawn to her, just like I am.
“You’re a pretty smart dad,” she said. “I’ve never been a parent, so I don’t know the pressure you must be feeling—especially finding yourself on your own. But I do have some experience with young girls, particularly girls who’ve suffered the loss of their mother. I used to volunteer as a Big Sister. I know you’re worried about her, but I haven’t seen any danger signs.”
Love Under Two Introverts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2
