“But—”
“No buts.” Frantic ideas whizzed through Dixie’s mind. She couldn’t do this anymore. She just couldn’t fit into Dan’s life. Not as nanny to her own kids — wasn’t that a joke? — and definitely not as his wife. He wanted too much. He stifled her.
Okay, all that aside, what other choices did she have? She needed to start thinking rationally. Taking Mandy with her when she bolted had not been rational. Her daughter had been sitting on the sheltered front step playing with her ballerina doll when Dixie stormed past. Impulse had taken over.
Wasn’t that the story of her life? Think it. Do it. Worry about the repercussions later.
So... now what? She should have left Mandy with Dan. Because she wasn’t coming back. Wait. She wasn’t? What else was she going to do? She should have left Mandy... or taken Buddy, too. Henry was fine with his father. At least that was one kid she didn’t need to worry about.
This was ridiculous. Could she really escape? Dan counted on her to watch the kids. Well, her kids. But he had a backup plan with Fran since Dixie was too flakey to show up on time every day. She’d been doing better but, yeah, she wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t wired to be perfect. Something inside her rebelled at the very thought, like a wild animal sensing a trap.
Being with Dan trapped her.
She needed freedom, but... the kids. So far, she’d dragged them with her, just like her mother had done with her. Dixie hadn’t had much choice, other than abandoning them to the state, and she wasn’t that bad. She had a choice now. Dan didn’t want the kids separated. They were siblings, he said. Half-siblings.
And, wow, would they ever be better off without her. She was such a mess.
“Mama?”
The uncertain tilt of Mandy’s voice chewed at Dixie’s resolve. On the one hand, it would serve Dan right if Dixie took Mandy with her, but having a kid would only slow her down. Dan would fight for Mandy, but he wouldn’t fight for Dixie.
She was going somewhere?
Yeah. She had to. Maybe Seattle. Basil Santoro was there, and he wouldn’t turn her away. They’d never had a chance to follow through before he’d run that police block and been arrested. He’d served his time for the DUI then left Bridgeview. He had such a big, nosy Italian family that Dixie could hardly blame him for escaping.
She knew what that need felt like. Right now, it consumed her. She needed away from her kids, away from Dan, and away from his religion. She was going to snap if something didn’t change, and she was the only one who could make it happen.
“Mama, I’m hungry. Why are we at home? You said a burger, and I want a milkshake, too.”
Dixie stared out the windshield as a bluster of wind spattered sleet against the glass. Without conscious thought, she’d pulled into Dan’s driveway. She’d lived here, too, until he kicked her out after she’d left the kids for a couple of hours that day. Why was she here now? To pick up Mandy’s clothes and toys before driving west?
Wrong choice. The kid didn’t deserve to be hauled around by her loser mother. She’d be safe with Dan. Happy. Maybe if Dixie was right out of the picture, the kids would forget about her. After a while, Dan would be relieved. He wouldn’t need to pretend to love her anymore. He’d find some other woman, a nice one who believed like he did, and marry her. The kids would have a new mother, not some crazy impulsive loser.
Why, oh why, had she told Mandy to come with her? She’d just wanted to control something, anything, but she shouldn’t have. She was always doing the wrong thing.
Send Mandy inside for her things? Or leave her behind? Oh, God, what a mess she’d made of her life. Was still making. If God loved her like Dan said, why didn’t He stop her? Prove Himself to her?
Dixie grimaced. That had been far too much like a prayer for her liking.
The TV blared in the other room, the cheering a crescendo as Dan entered the house. He liked football as much as the next guy, but today, he couldn’t care less. He’d taken a few minutes to pray, trying to quiet his mind and soul after Dixie’s abrupt exit. He’d blown it. Again. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Shouldn’t have challenged her.
He was so tired of walking on eggshells for fear of setting her off.
The kitchen smelled homey. Mom had made a few apple pies, the cinnamon fragrance flirting with the robust aroma of golden turkey. For the moment, no one was fighting or yelling. The kids must be playing in the living room and keeping out of Dad and Dave Junior’s way.
Dan took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he dragged the glass slider shut and allowed the cozy warmth to wrap around him after the chill of the back porch. The chill of Dixie.
Logan glanced over from the island where he massacred the poor bird, not that Dan could do a better job. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
Dan shrugged. “I’ve been better. She ran out of there like the devil himself was after her.”
“Or God.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Across the kitchen, Linnea scooped mashed potatoes into a china serving bowl. “Can you get the casseroles out of the oven, Dan? There are trivets for them on the table. We’re about ready to eat.”
Being useful would divert his spiraling thoughts. “Sure.” He washed up at the sink, shifting out of Mom’s way, then transferred the green bean casserole and the sweet potatoes to the table.
Dan studied the chair arrangements. He might as well pull Dixie’s out of there and give everyone a bit more elbow room. It might draw less attention to her absence, because what he really didn’t need was to explain to his dad and brother why she’d stormed out. He already knew what they thought of him for sticking by her.
He pulled out a chair, folded it, and shifted it to the hall closet. When he returned, Linnea was stacking Dixie’s place setting. She glanced at him, sympathy in her eyes. “Sorry, Danny.”
“Thanks. I really don’t know what to do.” Dan heaved a sigh. “I thought it would get easier. That she’d come around. It’s just the opposite.”
His sister touched his arm. “All we can do is keep praying. Logan and I do, every single day.”
“Thanks. Me, too.”
Linnea carried the dishes over to the china cupboard and put them inside while Dan closed the gap in the table settings. Mom set the gravy tureen down and analyzed the table.
“Looks good, Mom. Smells awesome.”
“Thank you.” She looked ready to say more but appeared to think better of it. “Could you call everyone else for dinner?”
Great. That meant his brother could yell at him for missing part of the football game. It was hard to avoid with the games seeming to go all day. Dan walked into the living room. “Dinner time!”
Dad glared at him. Dave Junior ignored him.
Par for the course. Dan caught sight of the two little boys playing with blocks over by the window. Buddy wasn’t usually this patient with Henry, so that was a win. “Come on. Buddy, wash your hands while I change your brother, okay? Dinner’s ready.”
“We’ll come in a minute,” said Dad.
Dan scooped the toddler, grabbed the diaper bag from the hall closet, and gave the kid a dry bottom before washing up again himself. He came back to the kitchen with Henry on his hip and Buddy by the hand.
The football game blared on.
Linnea pursed her lips and swept past him. “Dad! Dave! Dinner’s ready. Time to shut the game off.”
Better her than Dan. His sister had gotten all feisty in the past couple of years since Logan had entered her life. He’d been good for her.
Was Dan good for Dixie? Man, he tried to be.
“Where’s Mandy?” Linnea asked as she turned back to the kitchen in the sudden silence.
“Good question.” Dan thought for a sec. He hadn’t seen her since shortly after they’d arrived. “Buddy, do you know? Was she playing with you?”
The little boy’s nose curled. “She play dolly.”
Yeah, she was obsessed with that ballerina doll. “Where did she go? Is sh
e in one of the bedrooms?”
“Do’no.”
Dan strapped Henry into the high chair. “I’ll go find her.” But Mandy wasn’t in any of the bedrooms or bathrooms or behind the sofa. She wasn’t in the basement or out in the backyard. Dan re-entered the dining room as Dad dropped into the armchair at the head of the table and Logan set the platter of turkey in the center. “Has anyone seen Mandy?”
Dave Junior glowered at him. “She took that stupid doll outside to play a long time ago.”
Dan narrowed his gaze. “Outside where?”
His brother thumbed toward the front door.
“Excuse me.” Dan strode to the front door and stepped outside. A blast of cold wind with hints of snow slammed him. Mandy wasn’t there. Where could she be? She wasn’t the kind of kid who wandered off or ran away. Unlike her mother.
Her mother.
He envisioned the scene. Mandy playing with her doll. Dixie storming past her, thinking of ways to prove to Dan that she could make him stop loving her.
His gut balled into a knot. She wouldn’t.
Dan pulled out his phone. No messages. He tapped Dixie’s number. It rang and went to voice mail. Twice. Three times, and then he left a message. “Dixie, where is Mandy? Call me, or I’ll call the police.” Maybe he should, anyway.
Guilt swarmed Dixie as she threw her own clothes into a suitcase at her mom’s apartment. Mom would be glad to have her out of there when she got back from her cruise. Dixie had been cramping her style. Mom would be somewhat less glad when she discovered her cash stash gone from the secret compartment under the jewelry box, but Dixie would pay her back once she got a real job. It would be okay.
There was far more guilt at leaving a five-year-old alone in the house down on Water Street. Dan would be back soon, though. He’d already called a few times and left a threat on Dixie’s phone. He’d discover Mandy soon enough. And besides, though Dixie hadn’t followed through on her promise of a burger and fries, she had made Mandy a baloney sandwich before locking the crying child into the house. Her kid was safe and fed.
Dixie wasn’t going to forget her daughter’s despair anytime soon. She was a terrible mother. Now she’d proven it beyond any doubt... like there’d been any.
Her phone rang again, and she glanced over at it where it lay, face up, on the bed. Dan again.
What was she doing? Dan was the best thing that had ever happened to her. He’d been her rock, her champion. He’d made her believe she could be a better version of herself. In a world where men came and went, he was different.
Even more different since he became a Christian. Not in a good way.
Dixie zipped the case shut and looked around the apartment. Had she forgotten anything she’d need? She had clothes. Her makeup. Cash, but who knew how long that would need to last? She should empty the fridge, too, to save money on food. She wouldn’t want anything to go bad, since Mom wouldn’t be back for over a week. Oh, and grab her beer. There was a collapsible cooler in the pantry. Done.
A few weeks ago, Mandy had earnestly told her a story she’d heard in Sunday School about a guy who’d run away from God and been swallowed by a whale. He’d had to say ‘sorry’ before the whale belched him back onto the beach so he could obey.
Maybe Dixie shouldn’t be heading toward the ocean. Who knew if God had a whale for her, too? Of course, she wasn’t as important as the guy in the story. God hadn’t told her to do anything, so she wasn’t technically disobeying.
Dan talked about the still small whisper inside a person being God’s voice. The whisper that said Dixie was making a big mistake on top of her billion other ones. The whisper that said it wasn’t too late to humble herself and make amends. The whisper that said God loved her even more than Dan did.
The whisper that was surely a figment of her imagination... and one she was good at ignoring.
7
Dixie stood in the apartment building’s foyer with her hand on her wheeled suitcase and stared out at the white pellets angling from the sky. The sky had darkened in the half hour she’d been inside. The hint of snow had become a fulfilled reality.
Her temper had already cooled, and it settled further at the sight of the dark gray sky and sideways snow. It would be dark soon. Dark and ugly. Dan had put new tires on her car a few weeks ago, but that didn’t mean she liked to drive in nasty weather. She should have thought of that before she stormed out of his parents’ house. Dixie winced. Before she’d snatched her child and then abandoned her.
She’d made her bed and, as Mom always said, now she had to lie in it. Dan would never forgive her for what she’d done. What did it matter, though? She didn’t want Dan.
Powered by the wind, a garbage can rolled across the parking lot and slammed into a light pole.
Dixie needed to think. Her plan had been impulsive. She thumbed on her phone and checked the Seattle weather. An early winter storm, rare on the coast, battered the city. She was not driving to Seattle. Not today. According to the forecast, not for a few days.
She couldn’t stay at Mom’s. Dan would find her for sure. She couldn’t go back to the house on Water Street. Unless she got there before Dan and pretended she’d never left Mandy? But it had been too long.
On cue, her phone dinged. Yep. A text from Dan. What were you thinking? Mandy’s only five, Dix. You’re lucky she’s okay. Bawling her eyes out, but okay.
Dixie blinked hard. She’d caused those tears. She was the worst mother. This time, she’d really gone and blown it. Dan wouldn’t let her within five blocks of the kids ever again.
Where are you, Dix? We need to talk.
No. No, they didn’t. She swallowed the lump in her throat. You’re better off without me. So are the kids. I’m sorry for everything.
Babe, don’t do anything rash. We love you. We need you.
If only love were enough, but it never had been and never would be. Dan panicked now, but soon he’d be relieved. He’d be a good dad to Mandy and Buddy. The State officials would grant him custody, wouldn’t they? Or would they remove the kids into foster care?
Frost swirled in Dixie’s gut. She couldn’t let that happen, but she couldn’t go back, either. Seattle looked out of the question. Besides, why would Basil welcome her? He’d never asked her to go away with him when he left last year. He hadn’t sought her out the couple of times they’d happened to be in the same place after the night of his arrest.
Another text. What are you thinking, Dixie?
Dan’s words echoed her own thoughts. It was a good question, and one she had no answer to. She’d watched a movie once where a bunch of hot cowboys eased mustangs into a wide funnel that ended in a small corral. The wild horses didn’t know what was happening to them until it was too late, while the gate clanged shut behind them. Maybe a few got an inkling earlier on.
Those were the ones Dixie could identify with. There was a trap up ahead, but the walls angled in, forcing her down an ever-narrowing path. There was no one to blame but herself. She’d made every one of the choices that led to this moment in time.
She stared at Dan’s text. Watched the bubble with the three dots in it, bobbing to indicate he was writing more.
No. She flipped to her contact list and found Tanisha’s number. Tapped it.
“Dixie! Long time no hear. What’re you up to, girl?” Loud music swelled in the background. Laughter.
“Hey, I need a place to crash for a few days. You got a couch?”
“Sure, anytime. You know that. You and Dan bailed me out more than once. Uh... I take it you’re not with him anymore?”
The ding from an incoming text mocked that.
“Not exactly together, no. He got all religious on me.”
The background noise quieted to a more distant pounding beat. “Daniel Ranta? No way. I’m so sorry. I thought he was a keeper.”
Dixie swallowed hard. “Yeah, me, too. Anyway, he’s got the kids, so it’s just me who needs a spot if that’s okay.”
“Yeah,
sure. I’m at a party at Billie and Jared’s and don’t figure on heading home until morning. Meet me there?”
Billie and Jared were together? Last Dixie knew, they’d each been with someone else. Things certainly changed. “Sure. Text me their address and I’ll be over in a few. Can I bring anything?”
Tanisha laughed. “BYOB, of course.”
Bring your own booze. She had that covered. “Okay. See you soon.”
Dixie swiped over to her text app when it dinged again, but it was Dan again, not Tanisha.
Talk to me, babe.
Time was they’d have gone to a party like this one together. Dan could handle a fair bit of alcohol without doing something dumb, unlike Basil. Where Dixie didn’t even need a stiff drink to be stupid. It came as naturally to her as breathing.
She wasn’t answering Dan again until she was away from the places he could easily find her. And then she’d only answer so he’d quit pestering her and know he needed a different sitter for a while.
See? She was giving him fair warning. Wasn’t that responsible of her?
“She sure knows how to yank your chain.” Dave Junior’s nose curled in a sneer.
Dan shot his brother a glare as he settled into his chair at his parents’ table, Mandy’s arms still in a stranglehold around his neck. “Can we not do this in front of the kids?”
Dave Junior glanced at the others as though gauging support. Bullies always wanted someone to admire them.
“Good plan.” Linnea arrowed a stern look at their older brother, who shrugged and mopped a dinner roll through the gravy on his plate.
It would have been too much to expect his family to await Dan’s return for Thanksgiving dinner, especially since he’d had no idea how long he’d be when he left the house. If he’d been smart enough to take the boys, he wouldn’t have bothered returning, but his sister was right. They’d been better off here with her. Buddy had polished off his plate, but Henry had picked at his until Dan appeared with Mandy. Now the toddler smeared mashed potatoes all over his high chair tray.
Dancing at Daybreak Page 5
