A Change Of Pace

by Freya Barker

  "I'm not letting you out of my sight with that kid still out there, Millie, so you can throw all the attitude you like, it's not gonna get you a different answer."

  "Ugh! I can't believe this, I'm living in a prison!"

  I bite down on my grin as she stomps up the stairs, slamming her door for good measure. A month ago, I would've probably had a different response, but after what she's been through, I'm just happy with the normal reaction, giving me attitude when she doesn't get her way. Clearly the experience hasn't subdued her much.

  Over the weekend, after some decent sleep and chance to process, I asked Freddy to walk me through her talk with Millie in greater detail. Hearing that the first thing my daughter told her was 'I kicked him in the balls' already showed me my girl is far from a victim. She held her own, even injured she did everything I taught her to do.

  Bella and I stayed with Freddy for a few days, partially because it made more sense with the animals, and because her place is closer to the hospital. I also wasn't ready to let go of her yet.

  Yesterday she had to go back to work, and I had a daughter to pick up. She called last night to check in, but she didn't come over, and I slept like shit, worrying half the night about her out there alone.

  It's almost lunchtime; and I wonder if she's walking Boulder. I find myself thinking about her a lot. So much so, I have a hard time remembering what I would do any given day before she became so embedded in my life. From last Wednesday to yesterday morning, we mostly occupied the same space, both physically and mentally. The same intense bubble. It's been a little over twenty-four hours, and I miss her. Pathetic.

  I pull a package of ground beef from the freezer for dinner; an idea forming that may make both my daughter and me happy. Next I pick up my phone and dial Freddy's number.

  "Hey."

  The sound of her voice already puts a smile on my face.

  "Hey yourself. Is this a good time?"

  "Yeah, it's fine if you don't mind me chewing. I'm just scarfing down a sandwich on the dock by the boat ramp. Walked down here with Boulder, but I have to head back in the next five minutes or I'll be too late for an appointment."

  "I can be fast," I assure her.

  "Not in my limited experience," she jokes, chuckling.

  "Smartass. And by the way, I'm all for expanding on your experiences." I grin at the sexy banter. Not my intention, but I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

  "A girl could be persuaded. Or maybe I should say an over the hill spinster."

  "Wash your mouth with soap, nothing over the hill about you, and I hardly think you'd qualify as a spinster. You don't wear the prerequisite sensible shoes."

  The soft melodic sound of her laugh makes my jeans even more uncomfortable than they already were after all the innuendo.

  "I'm gonna have to cut it short," she announces, regret evident in her voice. "Boulder just left a present I'm gonna need two hands for to clean up before I head back."

  "Sure thing. Quick question though, do you have plans for tonight? Millie is moping, so I thought I'd make her some humburgers. She likes those, and from what I remember, you like them too."

  "Argh, I'd love to, but I have some stuff I...you know what?" She stops herself mid-sentence. "Chores be damned. I'd love to come have humburgers. I'll have to swing home to look after the animals, but I could be there around six? Want me to bring something?"

  "You, that's all—bring yourself."

  "That I can do." I hear the warm smile in her voice. "I should really get going."

  "Hey..." I get her attention before she has a chance to hang up. "Is it weird that after only twenty-four hours I miss you?"

  The silence on the other side has me worried that the impulse to spill my guts was wasted on a dead line, but then I hear her sigh.

  "If it is, then I guess I'm weird too."

  -

  I have my hands buried in a bowl of ground beef when the doorbell rings. A quick glance at the clock shows quarter past five, and I wonder if Freddy is early.

  "Can you get that, Sweet Pea?" I ask Millie, who's rinsing the chickpeas. She seems to have gotten over her earlier snit since I mentioned I was making her humburgers, she even offered to help. She's in charge of the hummus.

  I stack another patty on the plate when Jim walks in. I haven't heard much since he informed me last Friday he would let someone else take the lead on the investigation. He felt with the confirmation of Billy's involvement, it was best he take a step back. Although, I don't believe Jim would've used his position to shield his adoptive son, I understood his considerations.

  "Sorry to barge in."

  "Not at all. Beer in the fridge and grab a stool. I'm just finishing up here."

  "So when are those stitches coming out?" he asks Millie, who is back to making her hummus. She throws him a little smile.

  "Friday, right, Dad?"

  "Yeah. Follow-up appointment Friday morning."

  "Good. Well, I do have some news..." he lets his voice trail off, a little hesitant as he looks from me to Millie and back. I'm guessing he's not sure what he can say in front of Millie, but she solves that problem all by herself.

  "Did you catch him?" she asks, drying her hands on a towel, as she looks straight at Jim. My girl is no fool.

  Jim nods. "Early this morning. He was pulled over just outside Huntsville, about eighty kilometres east of here."

  "See?" Millie swings to me. "I could so have gone golfing with Jenna." With dramatic flair she tosses the towel on the counter, stomps out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

  And just like that, we're back where we started.

  "Glad to see she hasn't lost her spirit," Jim remarks dryly.

  "That's for damn sure," I mumble, finishing up the last of the burgers. "Anyway, he's in custody?" I prompt him.

  "Yup. There was an incident at a gas station just south of town overnight. A woman pumping gas was robbed at knifepoint. The description matched Billy and the truck."

  I shake my head. The stupid shit is piling on the strikes against him. Jim shrugs; he knows it too.

  "It gets better: first thing out of his mouth when they sat down to question him on the robbery, was 'Is she dead?' Stupid kid spilled his guts before that half a functioning brain cell kicked in, and he asked for a lawyer. From what the officer reports, Billy claims he didn't intend to take Millie, he was just watching the house. He seems stuck on the idea that life was perfect before Jordan and Millie started hanging out and has focused on your family as the root of all evil."

  "Sorry to say, he's got some serious screws loose," I point out.

  "Yeah, you can say that again. I'm just glad I wasn't the one notifying his mother; she apparently went ballistic. Thank God Jordan isn't around for this mess."

  "Isn't he coming back this weekend?"

  "Picking him up on Saturday. That's not gonna be a fun homecoming for him."

  "You were able to keep him away for the worst of it, that's something. He'll be okay."

  "I hope so," he says, tossing back the last of his beer and getting up. "I should head out. I just wanted to tell you myself."

  "Appreciate it."

  When I shake his offered hand, he doesn't let go.

  "I'm really fucking sorry for everything," he says in a low voice, leaning in, before finally releasing me.

  "It's what they call a shitstorm, man. It hits all of us at some point, knocks you on your ass and messes you up good, but eventually you'll get the stench off."

  "Thanks," he scoffs, snorting at my analogy. "I suddenly feel like a long hot shower."

  Freddy

  I swear the dogs know where we're going, because both start whining the moment I turn into Hollys Lane.

  "Settle down," I admonish them over my shoulder when the little one actually starts howling.

  Up ahead, I notice Jim's cruiser backing out of Newt's driveway. He raises his hand in greeting as he passes me. I don't mind admitting I'm curious to know whether he had anything new to
report.

  I've never been scared to be on my own, but I have to say I've been nervous. Last night in bed, I suddenly noticed all kinds of sounds I'd never really paid much attention to before. I was up several times to make sure I had everything locked down. I don't have any reason to think Billy would try to harm me. Heck, he never scared me before, but now I find myself looking over my shoulder wherever I go. It's unnerving.

  I pull in next to Newt's Jeep and get the dogs out of the car. Boulder shoots to the front door, wagging his tail and looking back at me as if he's telling me to hurry up. I scoop Bijou up in my arms; it's faster than trying to get the leash on her squirming body.

  I almost didn't get her back from Jess, whose generally crusty demeanor apparently is reserved for humans only, since I saw an entirely different, much more affectionate, side of her with the puppy. She even insisted I start bringing Bijou to the office, swearing she'd look after her. Not sure how the rest of the office would feel about that, given Bijou's current chewing phase, but I told her maybe in a couple of weeks.

  "Dad is being ridiculous," Millie announces, even as she's opening the door. She must've seen me pull up, because I didn't have a chance to knock yet.

  "Millie," Newt's stern voice sounds behind her. "Could you maybe let Freddy come in first, before you start complaining?"

  I have a feeling I've landed right in the middle of something when Millie stomps off. I haven't even set a foot inside. Newt plucks Bijou from my hands, sets her down in the hallway, and she toddles off to find her sister. He grabs my hand, pulls me inside, and straight into a deep, wet kiss that catches me completely by surprise with its intensity.

  "Hey," he says softly, when he finally releases my lips.

  "Hi." I surreptitiously peek over his shoulder to see if his daughter caught any of that.

  "She stormed back upstairs."

  "Ah, trouble in paradise?"

  "She's barely been home a day," he says, leading me to the kitchen and handing me a beer from the fridge. "You'd think an experience like the one she's been through would leave someone a bit subdued, at the very least. Not my girl," he says, giving his head a sharp shake. "Not even a little." I chuckle at his obvious exasperation.

  "That's a good thing though," I suggest, pulling out a stool.

  I had a few opportunities, while Millie was in the hospital, to check her state of mind. Already having difficulties properly processing emotions, it wouldn't have surprised me at all if this experience had set her back even further. I asked her straight out, if she'd thought about cutting at all. She actually joked, said the only cutting she'd been thinking about was cutting off Billy Baldwin's balls.

  "Is it?" Newt wants to know.

  "Absolutely. I was thinking about this last night after I talked to you. Her mom dying, you getting hurt—those are things she couldn't really control. But this whole episode? With Billy? She was able to take control. Yes, he assaulted and violated her, but she managed to get herself out of that situation. I'm not saying she wasn't traumatized, but she sure as hell wasn't victimized."

  Newt steps around the counter and wedges himself between my knees, his hands bracketing my face. "How did you get so smart?"

  "That's what they pay me the big bucks for." I smile and lean back as his mouth covers mine, this kiss arguably more thorough than the last one.

  "Ewwww."

  I snicker as I pull away, my eyes finding Millie with her back to the fridge, observing us with a sparkle in her eye. Her verbal reaction clearly put on, since her body language tells a different story. She likes us—Newt and me.

  "How are you feeling?" I ask her, when Newt reluctantly lets go of my face. He doesn't stop touching me, though; he just slips behind me, putting a hand in my waist.

  "Better now that the asshole is caught."

  "Watch your mouth," Newt automatically pipes up, which earns him a sardonic look from his daughter.

  "Are you saying he's not an asshole?"

  "Wait..." I hold up my hand, staving off a full-on discussion on the meaning of the word. "They found Billy?" It's a safe assumption that's who she's referring to.

  "Just outside Huntsville," Newt enlightens me, giving me the details with occasional editorial comments from his smartass daughter that have me bite down a smile.

  This is a Millie I haven't really had the pleasure of knowing yet. Sharp, witty, and much more self-assured. I see, despite the odd swearword she peppers her comments with, Newt is getting a kick out of this version of his daughter too.

  -

  "Stay the night."

  Oh so tempting, but I shake my head.

  We're lingering outside after dinner, watching the two puppies play in a makeshift pen Newt put together, since Bella is too young for the electronic collar yet. Millie went inside when Jenna showed up a half hour ago, and the two girls are sprawled on the couch, watching a movie on TV.

  "I can't. I have to drop the dogs off at Jess’s early in the morning before I head out." The reason I didn't bring up the subject before was because I don't want to put this on Millie—not yet.

  "Head out?"

  "Sudbury. I start my treatments tomorrow."

  It's clear from the look on Newt's face it had completely slipped his mind. I don't blame him; he's had more important things on his mind. It's one of the reasons I wanted to stay home last night, just to emotionally realign myself.

  "Shit!"

  He immediately digs in his pocket for his phone.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm gonna see if the Bennetts can take Millie and the pup."

  "And how are you going to explain that?"

  "I'll think of something," he mutters, scrolling through his contacts.

  "Newt, wait. I already made arrangements to drive up, stop at my brother's place, and he'll take me. I'm spending the night with them and heading back, first thing Thursday morning."

  I can tell he's not happy, and he confirms it right away.

  "I told you I'd have your back, every step of the way."

  "I know, but let's give Millie a breather, okay? We can tell her after I've had my first treatment. I'll be able to better explain what it is they're doing. You can drive me next week. I'd love for you to." I watch his face go from determined to unsure, so I put my hand to his cheek and add, "I'll need all the help I can get to lick this cancer."

  "What?"

  Both our heads swing to the door, where Millie is standing, shock on her face.

  "You have cancer?"

  Just when you think things are settling down.

  "Honey, look at me," I plead with her after running up the stairs behind her, and following her into her room, where she is lying face down on her bed, crying.

  "Look at me." When she finally turns her head a little and peeks at me from the corner of her eyes, I explain. "I never told you this, but this is not the first time for me. I had cancer, a much worse kind than this one fourteen years ago, and I kicked its ass. This is a different one, caught really early, and they already took the tumour out."

  "When?"

  "A couple of weeks ago. It wasn't that big, and by the time they confirmed that it was bladder cancer; it was already gone. I just need to go to Sudbury once a week for the next six weeks for this treatment they suggest, just to make sure it doesn't come back."

  "Chemo?" she questions, and I'm reminded this kid probably knows more about cancer treatments than most her age.

  "No," I reassure her, explaining how the intravesical treatments work and that they should have little or no side effects. Nothing like chemo in any event. When I still see doubt in her eyes, I open up my arms, a silent invitation for a hug. "It's gonna be fine, sweetie."

  She launches herself against me, and in a muffled voice, breaks my heart.

  "I don't want you to die."

  I drop my cheek to rest on the top of her head.

  "Not planning to, honey. Not for a good long while anyway."

  TWENTY-NINE

  Freddy
>
  "Excuse me."

  A tray of my buffalo burgers in hand, I manoeuvre through the bodies in Newt's kitchen and just outside to get to the grill.

  If I hadn't already fallen for the man and his daughter somewhere along the way, this surely would've done the trick.

  It was Millie who actually called me on Wednesday afternoon, to see how I was doing. I was fine, no after-effects of the intravesical treatment, although I was warned I might start displaying some flu-like symptoms. I found out her call had a dual purpose: she wanted my help planning a party.

  "So I was thinking, we can do a barbecue and have Jordan and his dad, and ask Jenna and her family to come over. Maybe Luke and Josh want to come too? With their parents of course. You could make your burgers, and I could help with the salad." She was rambling off a menu and I hadn't even had a chance to respond. I didn't even try; I was enjoying her enthusiasm too much.

  At some point Newt took over the call, apologizing for his daughter.

  "No need, and for the record I'd be happy to help, although you don't really need it, I've had your food."

  "But are you sure you'll be up to it? I was mostly indulging Millie when I said yes, but then I got to thinking..."

  By the time I got back to town on Thursday, the party had grown into a big thank-you bash. Newt had called Maggie to invite her and she offered to help get ahold of anyone else she could think of.

  And now there are about thirty or so people in Newt's backyard.

  "Thanks, honey." Newt takes the tray from my hands and leans in for a kiss.

  "You're welcome. Salads are ready, where do you want to set up the food? Kitchen island?"

  Newt points his spatula at Matt, who is just coming around the house, carrying a long folding table.

  "Thought we'd set that up over there, beside the sliding doors."

  "That works. Where can I find a tablecloth?"

  His head swings around and he slowly raises an eyebrow. "Not in my linen closet," he deadpans.