by Mia Sheridan
“Go,” the boy said, and now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she could see that there were rungs attached to the wall that she could climb. “Climb all the way to the top. You’ll exit into a back hallway near a utility room that rarely ever gets used. Turn right at the end of that hall and it’ll take you to a set of stairs. From there, you should be able to find your way.” He opened the latch and stepped out, beginning to close the small door.
Kandace looked up into the pitch-black above, placing her hands on the rungs. “Hey,” she whispered to the boy just as the door was about to shut completely. He pulled it open, revealing one eye in a small shaft of light. “You’re a dreamboat, you know that?”
She couldn’t see his full expression, but she thought he’d smiled, one that was both slightly shy and mildly astonished. The door clicked shut and Kandace began to climb.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As they pulled out of the church parking lot, it began to rain. Fitting, Scarlett thought. She glanced at her daughter in the rearview mirror to see her staring out at the water-streaked glass, a look of pure misery on her face. She looked up, and their eyes met. Scarlett’s heart squeezed painfully. “What happened, Haddie?” she asked. “Why did you say that to the little boy?”
“It’s not what I meant, Mommy.” Her voice was little more than a whisper, laced with the same distress Scarlett saw in her expression.
“What did you mean then?” You’re nothing, nothing at all, Ruth had reported Haddie saying to the disabled child. Scarlett still couldn’t even imagine her pure-hearted daughter saying something like that.
Haddie paused, her brow knitting. “I don’t know,” she finally said.
Scarlett exhaled a frustrated breath. “How can you not know what you meant? It came out of your mouth.”
“I know but . . .” Her words faded away and again, she looked out the window. Scarlett gripped the steering wheel, tears threatening. She felt so damn upset . . . with Haddie, but mostly, mostly with herself. She felt incompetent . . . alone.
She saw the sign for the hardware store Deputy West had mentioned and pulled into the lot. The rain was dwindling now, white rays emerging from behind the heavy clouds that had recently shed their weight.
She turned off the car and turned to her daughter. “Haddie, did you think less of that boy because he has braces on his legs?”
Haddie shook her head, her expression so earnest. “No, Mommy.”
“Did he . . . scare you? Were you frightened of him because he’s different?”
Haddie paused but then shook her head. “No, Mommy.”
Scarlett watched her little girl, so much going on behind those sea-glass eyes, so many things she longed to know, to understand. She released a slow breath. Be patient. She’s just a child. “Haddie . . . sometimes I talk to myself when I’m trying to work through a problem or . . . even just my own tangled thoughts. Sometimes it helps to speak things out loud. They sort of . . . sound different than when they’re just bouncing around in my own head. Was that what you were doing back at the church?”
Haddie seemed to mull that over and then nodded. “Yes, Mommy.”
“So you weren’t speaking to that boy so much as you were talking aloud. You didn’t mean to hurt him or say something cruel.”
Haddie nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, Mommy. Yes, that’s it.”
Scarlett nodded slowly. “I understand that. I bet if someone heard me speaking my thoughts aloud, they’d question me too. Those thoughts are . . . well, they’re unfiltered.” She looked off to the side, trying to put these ideas into childlike terms so she knew they were on the same page. “They’re really just for you so you don’t stop to consider how they’ll sound to others.”
Haddie nodded again, her eyes filling with relieved tears. “Yes,” she said, the word emerging on a choked whisper.
“Oh, Haddie.” Scarlett’s heart gave another painful squeeze and she grabbed her purse, opened her door, and went around to the back where she pulled her daughter into her arms. For a few minutes they stood just like that by the side of the car, both squeezing each other tight. When Scarlett pulled back, Haddie gave her a sweet, tremulous smile. “It’s important to be mindful about what you say out loud, and what you work through in your own head, okay? You don’t ever want to accidentally hurt someone’s feelings, right? Especially someone who might already feel self-conscious about the things that make them different?”
Haddie nodded, hugging her mother again. Scarlett gripped her tight and then set her down, giving her a smile as she grasped her hand. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Haddie said, but her smile slipped. “They won’t let me go back to that church now.”
“Well,” Scarlett said, giving her daughter’s hand a squeeze as they approached the door to the store. “We don’t need people who don’t believe in second chances, now do we?”
Scarlett squatted in front of Haddie and held her pinkie up and Haddie released a gust of breath that turned into a small grateful smile, looping their fingers together. “No, Mommy. We don’t,” she said. Scarlett nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before standing.
A bell over the door jingled when Scarlett pulled it open and they both stepped into the dim interior of the relatively small store, a stand of paint samples directly to their left and a front desk to their right. A woman, who had been bent over something to the side of the counter, straightened, offering them a smile. “Good afternoon. Welcome to Grady’s”
“Thanks,” Scarlett said, stepping forward and catching sight of what was in the box. “Oh my goodness,” she practically squealed. “How old?”
“Six weeks,” the woman said. She looked at Haddie. “You wanna hold one?”
Haddie’s eyes grew wide with delight. “Can I, Mommy?” she asked, looking up at Scarlett.
Scarlett grinned. “Sure, if it’s okay.”
As the woman picked up a tiny orange kitten and handed it to Haddie, Scarlett glanced toward the back of the store where she heard the muffled sounds of what she thought was arguing, a male and a female voice rising and falling in urgent-sounding tones. She looked back to Haddie who took the kitten gently and then held it against her chest, delicately running a finger over the tiny head. Scarlett watched her, noting the pure, unguarded love on Haddie’s face, the fierceness of her mother’s love rising up inside her so suddenly, she almost gasped. Her girl was not a cruel child. She was pure and good, her spirit filled with gentleness. It was normal for children to question that which was different, but she hadn’t done it to be unkind. How could Scarlett have ever doubted that for even a moment?
The woman who had been smiling down at Haddie as she held the kitten, glanced up at Scarlett. “I’m sure you didn’t come in to hold kittens. What can I do for you?” she asked with a warm chuckle.
“I’m looking for Mason Grady. He was recommended for some potential remodeling work.”
“Oh sure. He’s back in his office.” She glanced toward the rear of the store, worry crossing her features. “Let me just give him a ring. What’s your name, honey?”
“Scarlett Lattimore.”
“I’m Sheila by the way.” She picked up the phone next to the register and dialed, turning away slightly. “Hey, Mason, someone’s here to see you. A Scarlett Lattimore.”
She paused, obviously listening. “Yeah, I know. Do you want me to . . . right, okay. Sure, I’ll tell her.” She hung up the phone. “He’ll just be a minute. He’s got a couple people back there now but he said they’re about done.”
“Great. Thanks.” She watched Haddie love on the kitten for another minute and then heard the sound of a door open and footsteps on the linoleum floor coming toward the front. She looked up as an attractive man with curly, light brown hair appearing to be in his mid-to-late twenties rounded the corner, followed by a younger, pretty dark-haired woman and . . . Deputy West. Her heart gave a strange twist. His eyes met hers and though his expression seemed placid, she swore sh
e saw anger simmering in his mercurial eyes. Had his been the raised voice she heard from the back? Or had Mason Grady been the one yelling . . . and about what? Scarlett shook the questions off. It wasn’t any of her business and she really didn’t care.
“Ms. Lattimore?” the man who had to be Mason Grady asked, extending his hand. “I’m Mason Grady. I hear you’re looking for help with some renovations?”
She took the man’s hand and shook, noticing that his eyes were two different colors, one brown, one blue. “Uh, yes.” She glanced at Deputy West who had stopped and was standing off to the side watching them. “Deputy West,” she murmured.
A muscle jumped in his jaw, but he nodded. “Ms. Lattimore.” So they were back on more formal terms now. All right then. Strange, unreadable man.
The young woman had walked ahead of them and was holding the door open. Scarlett noticed she had a hairline scar above her lip as though she’d once had a cleft palate. It made her no less lovely. “You coming, Cam?” she asked, shooting Scarlett what could only be described as a hostile glare. That attitude, however? It definitely detracted. What the heck?
Deputy West paused, looking as though he was considering saying something to Mr. Grady, but then, apparently having changed his mind, muttered, “Yeah,” and walked toward the door without a second look at Scarlett. Okay then. He and the woman left, the store growing dim once more as it shut out the momentary blast of sunlight.
“Come on back to my office and you can tell me about your project,” Mr. Grady said.
Scarlett focused back in on him. “Thank you, Mr. Grady—”
“Mason, please. Mr. Grady’s the man who raised me. And we look nothing alike.” He grinned, his smile wide, teeth white and straight.
Haddie had turned away with the kitten, and her shoulders were hunched as she cradled the small creature to her chest. “Haddie, sweetheart, put the kitten down and come with me.”
“She’s welcome to stay out here and visit with the kittens while you attend to business,” Sheila said. “I have a granddaughter just about her age so I’m used to kids.”
“Oh,” Scarlett murmured. “Well . . .” She went around to Haddie and leaned over her shoulder, a smile tugging her lips at the sight of the sweet little face of the kitten.
She wasn’t sure about leaving Haddie with Sheila, even if she was just in another room, because just a short time before, Haddie had been in tears over how Ruth had chastised her. And although Haddie was such a resilient little girl, and looked completely at ease in Sheila’s presence, she was still Scarlett’s baby. “How about if you come with me and we’ll visit the kittens again on our way out?”
Haddie glanced at Sheila and gave her a small smile. “I’m okay staying here,” she said.
Scarlett paused again. “Well, all right. I’ll be back shortly, and if you want to come join me, you just tell Sheila, okay?”
Haddie nodded, completely engrossed with the kitten.
Scarlett thanked Sheila and then followed Mason to the back of the store where he showed her into a small, tidy office.
When she emerged twenty minutes later, it was with a smile and an appointment for Mason to come to the house the next day and work up a more precise bid. But he’d seemed enthusiastic about the project, and his ideas were both on par with her own, and offered exciting possibilities she hadn’t considered. “Thank you so much for allowing me to interrupt you without an appointment. I can’t wait to walk you through the place,” Scarlett said, reaching her hand out.
He shook, smiling brightly. “I appreciate the opportunity. Lilith House has sat empty for far too long. I’d love the chance to be a part of bringing her back to her former glory.”
“See you tomorrow then,” Scarlett said, turning and heading back to the front to tear her kitten-obsessed daughter away.
“Sheila said in two or three weeks they’ll be ready to go to new homes, Mommy,” Haddie said when they’d pulled out of the lot and were heading back toward the road that led out of town and toward Lilith House.
Scarlett glanced in her rearview mirror and gave her daughter an amused eyebrow lift. “New homes?” she asked. “Wow, I hope someone will want at least one.”
“Can we take one, Mommy” Haddie breathed. “Please?”
They hadn’t been able to have pets in their small apartment in LA, but now that they lived on so many acres of land, what trouble would it be to adopt a kitten, or even two? They’d probably be helpful in keeping the field mice population low too, which certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing. “Maybe,” she said secretively. “I’ll think about it.” The idea of surprising her daughter with two kittens of her very own in two or three weeks sent a jolt of happiness through Scarlett. And Lord knew, every little bit helped toward the effort of making their new house feel like home.
The gravel crunched under her tires as she came to a stop in front of the house, getting out and taking Haddie’s hand as they walked toward the front door.
She gazed up at the massive structure, the ideas Mason had discussed filling her with excitement as she saw the house, not as it currently was, but as it could be. And not just because she saw its potential, but because someone else did too. His ideas had rolled so effortlessly off his tongue, it was almost as though he’d already had them formed long before she showed up. They were that natural, and that good.
Scarlett startled when Haddie let out a loud yelp, turning to her daughter and instinctively reaching for her. Before she even had a chance to ask Haddie what had scared her, she saw the bony, plucked-looking body of a baby bird sitting on the first step. “Oh no,” she breathed, pulling Haddie in to her side. “Oh poor thing.” Scarlett looked up and around at the tops of the trees that sat at the periphery of the house. They all seemed too far away for the helpless creature to have dropped from, but she supposed it could have attempted to fly . . .
Haddie’s thin shoulder trembled against her body and she dropped down in front of her daughter, shielding her from the creature. But when she saw that Haddie was looking with something akin to horror, not at the bird, but something else behind her to the left, she glanced back, a concerned frown on her face. A Skittles wrapper lay discarded near one of the front pillars. She stared at it for a moment. She’d bought Haddie Skittles on the drive there. The wrapper had obviously been dropped during one of the many trips inside. Haddie must have looked away from the sadness of the dead baby bird, her gaze affixing to the bright candy package.
“It came right to our door,” she heard Haddie murmur behind her.
She turned back to face her daughter to see Haddie had moved her gaze to the forest. “The bird? No, Haddie. It must have dropped out of a tree somehow, or maybe it tried to fly. An animal could have gotten hold of it and then dropped it here . . .”
Haddie was looking at the bird again, seeming to only be half listening to Scarlett. Her eyes suddenly grew wide. “It’s alive,” she breathed.
“What?” Scarlett turned around, looking at the still creature. “No, honey. It’s not.”
Haddie nodded her head. “I can feel it,” she said. Scarlett opened her mouth to speak when, sure enough, she could see the bird’s tiny breast rising and falling slowly.
“Mommy, it is. It’s alive. We have to help it!”
Scarlett only hesitated a moment before standing and going over to the helpless baby and very delicately scooping it up into her hand. It was so tiny, it fit right in her palm. “Come on,” she said to Haddie. They could at least get it out of the sun, make it comfortable.
Inside, she went into the kitchen and found a square Tupperware container, using her one available hand to line it with a clean, soft, kitchen towel. She laid the bird gently inside and then handed it to Haddie, who took it, gazing down at the baby. “Is it going to die, Mommy?”
“Probably, honey. We should expect that it will, okay?”
Haddie looked up at her, her gaze so somber and adult-like. “Okay,” she said. “But we can love it before it does.”
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Scarlett’s throat felt tight. “Yes, baby, we can do that.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Scarlett pulled the string connected to the bare bulb hanging over the basement stairs, the narrow stairwell flooding with light and exposing decades of cobwebs. She screwed up her face as she batted a few away, taking the rickety steps slowly, one hand gripping the rail which—miraculously—still remained solidly connected to the wall.
As she rounded the corner and stepped into an enormous space littered with boxes and old castoff furniture, her phone rang, making her jump. “Jeez,” she murmured to herself, pulling her phone from the pocket of her sweatshirt. She was surprised she got any reception down here.
Merrilee’s name and photo displayed on the screen brought a smile to her face. “Hey,” she said, hitting the speaker button.
“Scar!” Merrilee’s voice rang out in the dead, still basement. “How are you?”
“Good,” she said, leaning precariously over an open box and peering inside. A part of her expected something to jump out and scare the living daylights out of her. This place was spooky in the way all old, dark, unused spaces filled with the relics of other people’s lives were. But only dusty fabric greeted her . . . old curtains, or clothing, or linens that might very well be nesting mice if she reached her hand in to find out. Which, no thank you very much. “If I sound echo-ey,” she told Merrilee as she moved on from the open box, “it’s because I’m down in the basement.”
“For what reason, pray tell, are you digging around in the basement of an old, dusty mansion?”
Scarlett let out a soft laugh. “My old dusty mansion. And I’m just looking around. I have a contractor coming out tomorrow and I wanted to get a better lay of this land, so to speak, before he starts drafting plans. This place is huge, Merrilee, and it feels like a mausoleum right now.” She walked through a makeshift aisle, weaving between junk, her eyes peeled for anything that might be of interest. Something that could potentially be salvaged and brought back to life for posterity’s sake.
