by Rachel Lee
“Yup,” said Krystal, who had recently picked up the affirmative from Peggy. “I like Peggy and her mommy, too. And Dan.”
“Of course.” Dan especially, since he’d been remarkably patient with the girl, playing board games and Old Maid with her when he had the time. Often he did not, because, Vicki had learned, he coached a recreational soccer team for girls, and played on a baseball team that consisted primarily of local deputies. They often faced off against another local team.
Just last evening, he had taken Krys outside with a soccer ball and started teaching her how to kick it. Vicki had been surprised at how reluctant Krys was to kick the ball.
“That’s not unusual,” Dan told her. “This is the first hump we have to get over with almost all the kids. Later we worry about the other stuff.” He turned. “No, not with the toes, Krys. Remember.”
The girl’s scowl of concentration had remained with Vicki. It had been adorable.
Now at the park, awaiting the arrival of Janine and Peggy, Krys asked, “When can I ride a horsey?”
Vicki looked at her.
“I’m a bug?” Krys asked.
Vicki pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh. “Uh, no, you’re not a bug. But I can’t answer that question, so you shouldn’t bug me about it.”
“Who can tell me?” Krys demanded.
“We can’t do it until Dan can make the arrangements.”
Krys’s brow furrowed. “Like what?”
“Like, he’s got to have the time off, and then he has to talk to his friend who has the horses, and his friend has to have the time to give you a ride.”
“Sheesh. I’ll never ride a horsey.”
“Of course you will. Dan will see to it.” Of that she had not the least doubt, after the past week or so. The man’s middle name should be Reliable.
Janine and Peggy couldn’t stay for long because Janine had to go clean her ill mother’s house and make dinner for her. Vicki almost offered to keep Peggy for the rest of the day, then realized she couldn’t. Until Lena’s house was sorted out, they had to stay out of the way.
Some other children arrived to play, but they were all much older and didn’t show any interest in Krys, understandably enough, so soon the child was left to her own devices. And soon she was growing bored.
“Let’s go for a walk downtown,” Vicki suggested, not knowing what else to do. If they went back to the house, she might enjoy watching sweating men grunting as they moved furniture, but Krys would continue to be bored and would probably manage to get underfoot. Vicki also suspected Krys’s presence would put a damper on the males’ most enjoyable pastime: cussing inventively while they worked.
She almost laughed at her own train of thought. By the time they walked the few blocks, Krys was beginning to drag her feet. Glancing at her watch, Vicki realized it was nearly lunchtime. Instead of wandering through stores, she took her daughter to the diner, hoping food would perk her up.
Vicki checked her cell phone for messages, but had none, which meant they weren’t through with clearing the house. When she thought about the big pieces of furniture Lena wanted moved, she wondered if the job would even be done today.
The diner wasn’t too busy yet, so they were able to get a small booth near the front window. Krys had no doubt about what she wanted: a hamburger. It arrived with the usual mountain of fries. Vicki didn’t feel very hungry, so she ordered a chef’s salad. It looked big enough to feed a crowd.
“Why’s that lady so grumpy?” Krys asked, after Maude slammed their plates down.
“She’s not grumpy,” said a familiar voice. “She’s Maude.”
“Dan!” Krystal shrieked and wormed her way out of the booth to reach up for a hug. Dan obliged her, then set her on her bench and slid in beside her.
“Hi,” he said to Vicki. “Tyke’s getting tired?”
“A little. I think food will rev her up. Is the job done?”
“Not quite. We’re taking a lunch break. I told Lena I’d bring back something for her. She wanted to feed us, but that’s just a little bit difficult right now.” He was smiling and relaxed, and he looked down at Krys. “Are you getting tired of not being able to go home?”
“Which home?” Krys asked.
Dan looked nonplussed. Vicki felt her heart stutter. “This is our home now,” she said quietly.
“I know.” Krys picked up another fry and bit into it. In her small hand it looked gigantic.
Vicki looked at Dan and saw understanding in his gaze. She guessed her concern had been written all over her face.
“What about my horsey ride?” Krystal asked.
“Honey...” Vicki instinctively wanted to hush her. It was important to learn not to press people for gifts. But Dan forestalled her.
“Next weekend,” he said. “Gideon’s going to bring his ponies to the fair, and he promised me you could ride as long as you want.”
Krystal brightened as if a lightbulb had turned on inside her. “Next week? How many days?” She looked at her hands. “Seven. Seven days. That’s a long time.” But she didn’t stop smiling.
“Thank you,” Vicki said to Dan.
He smiled. “Plenty of other stuff planned, too. Listen, if you want to bring Krystal home, I think you can now. We moved everything from upstairs down, so she can use her playroom, bedroom and bathroom, and there won’t be anything dangerous on the stairs.”
Vicki blinked. “My, you have been busy.”
“Many hands and all that.” He started to ease out of the booth. “I think that’s my carryout. Want me to get Maude to wrap yours up? I’ve got the car and I can drive you home.”
Vicki looked at her daughter, who, despite that burst of excitement over the idea of the horse ride, was now fiddling with her food more than eating it. Vicki began to wonder if this was just fatigue or something else. “Thanks. I think we’d both like that.”
“I don’t have a booster seat for her. I should probably ticket myself.”
A laugh escaped Vicki. “I didn’t think of that. I’m so used to having one in my car. Okay, I’ll walk her home. Krys, are you done eating?”
She nodded. “Doesn’t taste good.”
Vicki immediately went on high alert. She reached across the table and tried a fry. “They’re fine. Okay, sweetie, we’re going to put your lunch in a box and get you home.”
“You think she’s getting sick?” Dan asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Let me take care of your lunches. You head on home with her right now. Or I could go get your car, or the booster seat from it.”
It seemed as if every minute Vicki spent with this man, she warmed to him more. Alarm bells clanged, but they were muffled by her concern for Krystal. Besides, liking a man was a long way from being involved.
“God, am I stupid,” he said suddenly.
Startled, she gaped at him. “What?”
“Stay here. Give me five. Maude,” he called out, “I’ll be right back for those lunches. Could you pack these up, please? And just add them to my tab.”
He dashed out the door. Maude clomped over to the table with two boxes for the meals. “You want me to fill them?”
“I can do that, thank you.” Then Vicki saw the woman’s face soften, just a teeny bit.
“The little one don’t look so good. I’ll get you a bag.”
Vicki just finished moving the food into the foam containers when she saw Dan return out front, carrying a booster seat. Where had that come from?
It took him only a minute to install it in the back of his SUV, and then he came back into the diner. “All set,” he said cheerfully.
He stopped at the register to pay the bill, and Vicki clearly heard Maude say, “On the house. You just take care of that little girl.”
It seemed there was a heart of gold hidden beneath that rough, irritable exterior.
“Where did the seat come from?” Vicki asked as she adjusted the straps for Krys.
“The she
riff’s office has about a dozen of them. I don’t know how I could have spaced it.”
“Why so many?”
“Community effort to ensure no kid rides unprotected just because their parents can’t afford a seat. When they’re no longer needed, they come back to us, we get ’em cleaned and checked out, and if they’re still usable, they get used again.”
“What a great idea!”
“I bet your husband’s department did the same thing. We’re not exactly unique that way. I went to a conference once and a cop from Georgia explained it to me like this. He said once you see what can happen to a kid who isn’t properly secured, you never want to see it again. Thank God, I’ve never seen it.”
Vicki looked at him. “Hal did once. He had to take time off and he spent three days cussing nonstop.”
Dan touched her shoulder. “Did he get some professional help?”
“Of course not,” she said with a bitterness that surprised her. “Cops don’t want that on their records.”
Dan didn’t say another word. He loaded the bags into the back, then held the passenger door open for her.
Whatever he thought about professional help and cops who didn’t get it, he never said.
*
That had been the other downside to being a cop’s wife, Vicki thought as she rocked beside Krystal’s bed. The girl hadn’t argued about taking a nap, a sure sign that she wasn’t feeling well. Sounds from downstairs were muted, as if the men helping to move Lena’s furniture were trying to be quiet.
Which gave Vicki perhaps too much time to think. Being a cop’s wife had been difficult in more than one way. Vicki sometimes wondered how so many women handled it. By not thinking about it? By staying busy? Staying busy had been her choice, a way to avoid worrying every time he went out the door. Maybe if they’d been married longer she might have become inured to it. At least until the violence struck too close to home. She’d seen the other wives after Hal died, had noticed how they’d clung a little closer to their men. Every so often, the awful possibilities just couldn’t be ignored.
But there’d been the other stuff, too. Hal had tried not to bring it home, but even in the five years of their dating and marriage, she’d begun to see changes in him. While he wouldn’t talk about the ugly matters, she was sure there were plenty of them, judging by his occasional angry outbursts, and by the nights she awoke to find him out of bed and pacing.
Surprisingly, it had been a newspaper reporter who had told her, “We all get some PTSD. Cops, firemen, EMTs, reporters. You can’t avoid it, because every so often you’re going to deal with something so terrible you can’t close your eyes without seeing it.”
Since Hal wouldn’t talk to her about things that disturbed him, probably because he was trying to protect her, she finally had learned to just let him be. After a few days, he wouldn’t be so angry or irritable, and he wouldn’t spend hours outside by himself shooting hoops at a nearby park. Somehow he always found his way back, and it wasn’t as if it happened constantly.
But at some level she’d been aware of what he might be dealing with, and considered herself lucky that she never had to go to the scene of an accident or shooting. She was touched, too, by the way he sheltered her.
Hal was a good man, she thought, as she watched her daughter sleep. Like so many cops, he’d joined the force to help and protect people. Of course, Vicki had met the other kind, the thrill seekers, the tough guys, but Hal hadn’t invited them into his personal circle.
Reaching out, she touched Krys’s forehead and thought it felt just a tiny bit warm. Vicki was sure she’d packed a thermometer, but couldn’t remember unpacking it. Well, it would be easy enough to get another, she supposed, if Krys started to feel too hot.
Lena poked her head in, asking in a whisper, “How’s she doing?”
“Out like a light. Maybe a bit warm. I’m not sure because she’s sleeping.” Like her father, Krystal seemed to radiate heat when she slept.
“Need a thermometer? Want to go to the doctor?”
This was ridiculous, Vicki thought, the two of them whispering across the large room. She eased out of the rocker and tiptoed over to the door so she could step into the hallway. She was surprised to see Dan near the top of the stairs.
“How is she?” he asked.
All thoughts about the dangers of caring about a cop flew from her head as his concern touched her. She was making too much of nothing. Dan was just a nice man, and he truly seemed to like Krystal. Her daughter needed that. “I think she’s okay. If she’s sick, it’s not bad.”
“I can call my doctor to see her, if you get worried at any point,” Lena offered. “Or there’s the minor emergency clinic the hospital started a couple of years ago.”
“I don’t think we’ve reached that level.”
“We’re almost done downstairs,” Dan said. “And by the way, I noticed you never ate lunch. Want me to bring your salad up?”
Vicki felt wrapped in caring. She’d been wrapped in it before and had struggled to break free, but somehow this felt different. “Thanks, both of you. I’m not hungry right now.”
Lena patted her arm. “Of course not. When we’re done below, we’ll let you know. Maybe we can bring Krys downstairs if you want to keep an eye on her.”
It was different here, Vicki thought, as she returned to the bedroom and sat again in the rocker. At home—her former home—she had been able to keep an eye on Krystal from the next room. No stairs between, no big gaping spaces as at Lena’s house. Taking Krys downstairs and setting her up on the couch might be a good idea.
Assuming she didn’t feel better when she woke.
Maybe it was just all the accumulated stress of the move and the changes. Maybe she was just tuckered out. Vicki could sure identify with that. Nothing was familiar any longer. The old routines were all broken. It was a bit tiring and stressful even for her. How much more so for Krystal?
Sitting and rocking, forced into a quiet moment by life, Vicki thought over the past year, even the painful times, and once again sorted her priorities.
She knew she needed to move on. She didn’t need Hal to tell her; it’s what he would have wanted. The question was, how much did she want it?
Evidently, enough to move here, away from everything and everyone that reminded her of Hal. Except for her daughter, of course. Looking at Krys would forever remind her that Hal had lived, loved and laughed with her. That he’d been the center of her existence for a long time.
Some things couldn’t be left behind. No way.
Nor should they be.
*
Krys woke a couple hours later. She was hungry and thirsty, and a little cranky. Vicki pressed her palm to her daughter’s forehead, didn’t think she felt feverish, and after a trip to the bathroom, they headed downstairs.
The house suddenly looked empty.
“What happened, Mommy?” Krys asked when they were halfway down the steps.
“I guess Aunt Lena got rid of everything she didn’t want.”
“This is a big house!”
Indeed it was. It had pretty much absorbed two extra people and their belongings, while appearing only slightly crowded once the majority of boxes had disappeared. Now it looked almost empty.
Lena was in the kitchen cooking dinner, and turned at once to ask Krys how she was.
“Hungry,” she answered promptly.
“I think I can do something about that,” Lena replied.
“I can just get her lunch out.”
Lena shook her head. “I can do better than a hamburger.” She looked at Krys. “Watermelon?”
Krys clapped her hands together. “I love watermelon!”
“I thought you might.” Still smiling, Lena looked at Vicki. “Dinner won’t be for a while. I’m roasting a fat old chicken. Dan will be back. He said he’d move the boxes you want stored up in the attic.”
“Wow. He’s already done a lot today.”
Lena nodded. “I know. But these guys
...you’d think they just wanted to get all this done, the sooner the better.” She winked, making Vicki laugh, and went to the refrigerator to pull out a watermelon that had already been sliced into wedges.
Krystal tucked into the watermelon, not caring that she smeared her face and got covered with juice. Vicki watched her, smiling faintly, wondering at what point in life people started to shed the exuberance of childhood. What did it matter if her daughter got covered with watermelon juice? It could all be washed up.
So of course, watching all this, she ate her own slices carefully. She could have laughed at her own absurdity. “What can I do to help?” she asked Lena.
“Just keep me company. I’m in a cooking mood. Days will come when I’ll holler for you to take over the chore for me, but right now it doesn’t feel like one.”
“I should thank everyone who came to help with all of this.”
“I already did. But one of these days, if you want, we can have them and their families over for a barbecue out back.”
Vicki almost agreed, but the words stalled in her throat. It would be just like it had been before, only the faces and names would change.
She spoke to Krys instead. “Are you feeling better?”
Her daughter nodded, her mouth full of watermelon.
So maybe it had been fatigue brought on by all the stimulation. Krys’s entire world had changed, and now everything was new. But Vicki had already thought of that. She guessed the question she really wanted to ask, and didn’t know if her daughter could even begin to answer, was whether she was homesick.
Vicki herself was past homesickness. Her entire heart centered around Krystal now, and she didn’t even miss the home she had shared with Hal. She didn’t miss any of it—not the town, lovely though it was, not the shady streets and lanes in some of the older areas, not the beauty of the Hill Country to the west, nor even her friends.
It was as if she had sliced something off at some point.
Or she could just be fooling herself.
*
Later that evening, Lena took Krystal up to bed again. It had become a new routine, every other night Lena tucking Krys in and reading to her.
Tonight, as they headed upstairs, Lena looked back at Vicki, and at Dan, who had once again joined them for dinner. “Why don’t you two take a walk or something? Get out of here for a while. Sometimes a woman needs to be something besides a mother.”
