Reviving Jules

by Peggy Trotter

  “I’ll go back ’fore he wakes up.”

  Jules sat down at the end of the porch.

  “Well, maybe you could stay for just a few minutes.” Jules felt wormy for enjoying the little pixie’s company. “Which fish is your favorite?”

  The little girl became quite animated. “The ones with all the colors. They’re white, and orange, and black. But they’re hard to see. Usually, it’s the orange ones that come to the top.”

  She stretched her face forward and made her lips open and close like a fish. Her delicate Snow White hands became imaginary fins. Her body moved slowly, eyes bugging.

  “Oh, those are called calico.” Jules smiled as the fish fact popped out. “They’re probably not as common.”

  The little girl froze and stared at her. She tilted her head to the side. “What’s comma?”

  Jules laughed. When was the last time she’d done that?

  “Not comma, common.” She enunciated the word, dragging out its pronunciation. “Common means there are more of them than the others. Most of the goldfish are orange, and only a few are calico.”

  “Oh, one time I saw a white one. My mommy had a white cat a long time ago. But she’s dead now.”

  “That’s too bad. I’m sorry your cat died.”

  “No, not my cat. My mommy is dead.” The child bent over the fishpond.

  Oh, my. Jules swallowed. “Oh, I am really sorry to hear that.”

  The little girl shrugged as she glanced at Jules. “I don’t ’member her. But there’s a picture in the sun room, and daddy holds it all the time. Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, he’s hugging it.”

  Oh, dear. If this poor man knew his daughter not only left the house while he napped, but also promptly exposed some very secret skeletons in his closet to a near stranger, Jules was sure he’d be appalled.

  Crossing her arms, she chose her words with care. “You never did give me your name.”

  “Andi.”

  “Andi, that’s pretty. Now, Andi, I think it’d be wise for you not to tell just anyone that story. It’s what we call ‘personal information.’ And your daddy might not appreciate everyone knowing personal information.”

  Andi stood up, her little head tilted to the left and her hands on her hips. She nodded, and slung her hands as she spoke. “Yeah. Sometimes it just comes out. Did you know my daddy drawed a big fish pond at the zoo?”

  Jules jerked her head at the quick change in subject and put on her best surprised face. “I did not know that.”

  “He did. We went to see it, and it’s got big Koi fish in it. Fat ones.”

  Jules’ brow puckered in thought. “Is it a real pond?”

  Andi’s head bobbed up and down, the long dark hair swung back and forth. “Uh-huh, and they have Koi not goldfish. There’s a boy in my class named McCoy and he looks like a fish.”

  The child covered her mouth as she giggled. Jules couldn’t help but feel a grin tug at her lips.

  “He has big green eyes and he’s not even making them big. They just are.” She laughed again and stomped her foot. “And when he gets in trouble he does this.”

  She paused long enough to show Jules her fish lips once more. Jules smiled. The child’s personality poured on her like sunshine. Fresh. Full of hope. Was it wrong to want to bask in her sweetness for just a few moments?

  “I also got a girl in my class named Goldie, but she don’t look like a fish. She looks like my best friend. ’Cause she is.” Andi crossed her arms over her body and swung back and forth. “What’s your name?”

  Her first response was to say Mrs. Noble. But she wasn’t anymore. Someone else was. She was Jules Summers once again. A label she hadn’t used for twenty years.

  “Jules.” She wondered if Andi’s father approved of a first name basis relationship. The thought reminded Jules that the girl probably ought to head home.

  “Oh, Jules sounds like Julie.” Andi grinned.

  Jules stood up. “I suppose you have a ‘Julie’ in your class, too?”

  “Nope, my babysitter is Julie. She’s moving. She’s gonna go to college somewhere else.”

  Jules hid a smile. The pixie routinely revealed everything she knew. “How about I walk you home?”

  “Well, since I know your name and all.” Andi gestured with her hand like a grown-up explaining something. “I guess you’re not a stranger anymore.”

  Jules pushed her lips together, trying to remain serious. “Yes, it’s important you remember your stranger-danger rules.”

  Andi nodded. “Uh-huh, like don’t take candy. Don’t get in a car and stuff like that.”

  Jules headed around the house, and Andi fell in step beside her as if they’d known each other a long time.

  “That’s very good. What grade are you in?”

  “K-5. I go to Prides Creek Christian School.”

  Jules groaned inwardly. Christian school. “Where’s that?”

  “It’s here. It’s a great big church.” Andi stretched her arms up. “And there’s a bell in the tower. But it’s not the one we ring for school.”

  Jules bit her lip. Ah, the tall, brick building on the corner with the arched doors. New plan. Get the kid home and leave. Jules paused in front of her neighbor’s house. “Here you go. This is your house, right?”

  “Nu-uh. Up there.” She pointed at the high dirt bank across the road. The tall embankment shortened toward the end of the street. This block was particularly long.

  “Oh,” was all Jules could manage when she realized just how far a five-year-old had walked by herself.

  “Daddy made me a play set. It’s so big. It has two slides, and one of them is a tornado. Well, not a real one that blows things down. There’s a climby thing, too. And it’s got one, two, three swings on it. Did you know the top of the tree house is green?”

  Andi continued to chatter and prance as they walked along until she pointed to the dirt mound on the other side of the road.

  “We gotta cross here.” Andi nodded with assurance.

  “Here? There’s no houses.”

  “Come on, I’ll show ya.” Andi’s little hand slid into hers. “You can climb, can’t ya?”

  A jolt shot through Jules. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Here.” She pulled Jules to the wall of dirt.

  The mass of soil stood about six feet high. Jules mouth dropped open as Andi deftly grasped the tree roots sticking out from the bank to climb up.

  “Andi, you can’t do that. That could be someone’s yard.”

  Her reply came back muffled as she climbed. “Uh-huh. It’s mine.”

  Jules stood below to make sure the little girl didn’t fall. Once at the top, Andi turned and held out a hand.

  “I’ll help you get up, Jules. Grab my hand.”

  Jules shook her head and grinned. What kind of munchkin was she? She was like, five going on thirty.

  “I’ll tell you something. I think I can do it on my own. You step back so I know you won’t fall, and I’ll climb by myself.”

  Could she? How many years had it been since she actually scaled a dirt bank? Huh. Had she ever? She looked around in all directions. It wouldn’t do for the neighbors to think a looney bird lived in the old house on the corner. She returned her attention to the bank, set her tongue in the side of her mouth in determination, and grabbed hold. These tree roots better be strong.

  With a mighty struggle, Jules climbed up one root then another. Andi made it look so easy. It shouldn’t be this hard. Finally, she planted her belly on the top and pulled herself across the grass. Gee, this was smart. Sweat poured from her head and dirt smeared down her arms. She’d be filthy by the time she actually stood.

  Too late for second thoughts. She swung one leg up and finally, the other. Goodness. What an adventure. She rose and brushed herself off. Dirt and grass stains covered her shirt and jeans. Great.

  Andi went a little further. Here it was mostly wooded, but
she could make out a yard ahead. Taking a deep breath, she followed. What met her eyes as she broke the tree cover resembled paradise.

  Mature trees and bushes lined the huge lawn on three sides. A giant gnarled maple stood in the center, nicely shading the slides of her daddy-made play set. An above-ground pool attached to the back of the house with a wooden deck on all four sides. To the left, a stone patio surrounded a hot tub. A large pergola arched over the brick slabs and several wisteria trees clung to the wood, heavy with periwinkle blooms.

  Color exploded from every direction. Under the taller trees nestled pink and white dogwoods as well as a fuchsia redbud, all in full bloom. Yellow forsythia and red azalea bushes thrived beneath them. A canopy-covered swing stood to her left, next to a small vegetable garden situated to receive the lion’s share of sunshine. Perfect tilled rows marked with string and twigs revealed the rich dark soil.

  Professional landscaping surrounded the base of the regal three-story home like a charming Christmas tree skirt. For a moment it almost seemed like paradise. A beautiful place where everything was good and right.

  “See, I told you. That’s my house.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Wow, nice.” Jules glanced at her stained clothing. This was no time to meet anyone. “Okay, Andi. You need to go inside and make sure your dad isn’t worried about you, all right?”

  Andi grinned revealing two missing front teeth.

  “Okey-dokey.” Andi gave an exaggerated nod, sending her hair flying. Her exotic eyes crinkled in mischief. Suddenly her face went serious. “Can I come and see the fishies again?”

  Jules knelt in front of the child. “Yes, you may, but you mustn’t visit when your dad’s asleep. Ask permission first. He may want to meet me, so just stop by my house sometime. How’s that?”

  Her head bobbled again. “Yeppers. Bye, Jules.”

  The child ran up the slight incline toward the back door and slipped inside. Jules turned and made a quick getaway. Reaching the edge of the bank, she realized the bad news. She had to climb down.

  * * *

  “Leandra Celeste Carsen. Where’ve you been?”

  His daughter stood inside the sunroom door, eyes like half dollars.

  Rhett crossed his arms over his chest. After waking from a nap, he’d spent ten minutes hunting her. Panic had built a skyscraper within his chest until he’d caught sight of her prancing across the yard to the door. He hardened himself against her woeful expression.

  “Answer the question.”

  She leaned on the door casing and rested her left foot on her right. Her bottom lip trembled. “I looked at the fishies.”

  His brows together. “Mrs. Kissel’s fish?”

  Andi nodded.

  He closed his eyes for a second. That was two blocks to the north. “Go lie in your bed.”

  Tears appeared and ran down her chubby cheeks. “Yes, Daddy.”

  She walked through, head down, and Rhett stayed in his unyielding stance until she left the room. Then he sagged on the wicker couch in relief.

  “God, thank you for keeping her safe.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, calming the adrenaline coursing through his system. A few more minutes, and he’d have dialed 911.

  What was with her lately? She was turning into a handful, needing twenty-four-hour supervision. First the panty business, now leaving the house without permission and traipsing blocks away. He thought over her behavior the previous months and shook his head. Part of it was his fault. He’d logged in too many hours. Last night, he’d stared at the computer screen till three a.m to outline this Chicago project.

  He rubbed his hands over his face. Still, she’d broken the rules, and he’d have to discipline her. His eyes swept the backyard, and he relaxed into the cushion. His design was finally coming to fruition after two years of work. The bushes and trees bloomed with fervor, and the grass grew even and weed-free. Soon, he’d have the garden planted and watch it bloom, vibrant with health. He swallowed. Now, if he could tame the child, all would be well. A completely fulfilled life. Yet emptiness spread through him. It will be enough, he grimly reminded himself. It had to be.

  He rose and exhaled. Five years old, five minutes. It was time.

  * * *

  Andi lay in fetal position on her bed when Rhett pushed the door open. Her face brightened as he entered, and she sat up and swiped the tears. He made his way across the room and sat on the mattress.

  She hurled herself into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

  Her little body shook with sobs. He firmed his jaw and pushed her back so he could eyeball her.

  “Andi. What rule did you break?”

  Her eyebrows lowered, and her lips puckered. “Going outside without asking.”

  He sighed. “And?”

  “Leaving the yard.” She hiccupped and blinked at him.

  He gave her a little shake. “You’re to never, never do that again. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, her face crumbling into sobs. He pulled her to him, and emotion stormed through his gut. She cried for a few moments before he began to speak in a low tone.

  “Peaches, I don’t make rules to be mean. They’re to keep you safe.” He reached over and pulled a couple of tissues from a box on her nightstand. She leaned back, and he wiped her cheeks, although Rhett knew most of the moisture now rested on his shoulder.

  “You must have permission to leave the house and yard so I know where you are at all times. What if you’d met a stranger? You can’t tell if someone is good by looking at them. So you must be careful of everyone, remember?”

  She nodded, earnestness upon her face. Now he’d cut in some progress.

  “But she wasn’t a stranger daddy, ’cause I know her name.”

  Alarm sliced through him. “What’re you talking about?

  “Jules.”

  He squinted. “Julie?”

  “No, Jules. It’s kinda like Julie only it isn’t. She’s bigger.”

  The English language deserted him.

  “I told her ’bout my school and my friends. Then we climbed the bank. I showed her my play set.”

  He placed her on the bed with firm hands. “You met someone?”

  Andi bobbed her head. “She’s not Mrs. Kissel. She’s in heaven with Mommy.”

  Rhett set his hands on his thighs and leaned forward. “Andi, tell me where you saw this woman.”

  “At the fishies. She came outa the house. Don’t worry, Daddy, she’s nice.”

  Rhett shook his head. Just when he thought he’d made some inroads of understanding with Andi, the child dropped an additional bomb.

  “She said I could visit again. And you can come, too.”

  After sending another thankful prayer heavenward, he grunted and crossed his arms. Oh, he’d meet her all right. Now, on to the lecture about talking to strangers.

  * * *

  Rhett stuffed the rest of his clothes into the carry-on bag.

  “Why can’t I come?” Andi sat on his bed, tears streaking her face as she traced her teddy bear’s eyes.

  “You know the reason.”

  “I’ll be good.” She blinked, and his throat squeezed.

  He paused before zipping the bag closed. “It’s not about behaving. If you came, I’d be too busy to spend time with you. I have meetings all weekend. Besides, you’ll enjoy being with Julie. I bet she’ll play games and do girly stuff.”

  She shrugged and lowered her head. Sighing, he sat on the bed, gathered her into his lap, and stroked her hair. Guilt cut through him, and he clamped his jaw. If these trips didn’t come to a halt…to his relief, the doorbell rang. “I think that’s her.”

  He stood, cradled his daughter, exited the bedroom, and strode to the door. Julie Farrows, blonde, blue-eyed, and petite, smiled before her face puckered in sympathy.

  “Awww. Are you missing Daddy already? He hasn’t even left yet. And here I thought I might share my new neon orange nail polish with you.”

  Andi gla
nced toward the sitter’s hands. Rhett motioned her inside.

  “Where is it?” Andi mumbled.

  Julie opened her eyes wide and bent to make eye contact. “In my backpack. I also brought Break the Ice, too. You wanna help me unpack?”

  Andi hesitated before pulling from her father’s arms. Julie led the way to the living room off to the right. Rhett mouthed a ‘thank you’ and started up the hall.

  “Here, let me show you how to unfasten these buckles. They’re tricky.” Julie’s voice echoed behind him.

  It took five minutes to pack his toiletries in the zippered pouch and deposit it with the rest of his stuff in the suitcase. He traveled light, with only his carry-on and his computer case. He transferred them to the kitchen and set them on the floor near the garage door and contemplated the golden knob. He dreaded turning it. Once he did, Andi would recognize the noise and come tearing through the hallway, bawling. As much as he’d hate leaving without saying goodbye, he wished there was a way to pull it off. She’d achieved the happy zone, and one sound of his departure would shatter it.

  Bowing his head, he prayed to God for traveler’s mercies and care for the ones he’d leave. He tagged on a plea for help leaving the house, and with a deep breath, he grasped the knob, turned and pulled. The door’s signature creak brought thudding footfalls to his ears. She curbed the kitchen door, wailing, her face in a panic.

  He squatted and caught her like a baseball right down the tube. She sobbed into his neck and he rubbed her back.

  “Don’t go, Daddy, don’t go.”

  She pushed herself deeply into him. He hugged her and stood. “I’ll be back soon. You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”

  “Yes, I will.” She clutched his shirt. “Please stay, please.”

  “I have to go, Peaches. Give me a kiss.”

  “No, no.” She clung like an octopus to a clam.

  He compressed his lips and nodded at Julie to pry her off. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Andi, and I’ll be home on Sunday. I love you.”

  Julie drew the teary child into her arms and murmured in her ear, and Rhett collected his luggage. He shut the door and his heart, and then marched for his truck. He threw the bags into the passenger seat and hopped in. Dislike for Phil Moser simmered as he yanked the seatbelt across his lap.