“Where did you hear that?”
Myah and Alyson had already discussed a plan of attack if something like this happened.
“My sister is on the administrative team at the police station. Is it true? I need to know. My sister has him teaching her daughter private dance lessons.” Melinda swallowed visibly.
“You should recommend Myah to her. Especially after hearing something like that. I know I wouldn’t want someone with that reputation to give my daughter private lessons.”
All Myah had asked Alyson to do was neither confirm nor deny, but to build up Myah if needed. It had been Alyson’s decision to not only build up Myah but to tear down slimeball Eddie Mendez as a dance instructor. She would take a lesson from her mother’s book and use her words and reputation to her advantage.
“Do you think Myah has any openings?” Another woman who sat behind them leaned forward and tapped Alyson on the shoulder.
Aly turned. “I don’t know, but if I were you, I’d ask sooner rather than later. If what Melinda says is true”—and here was the other part of her plan, put the wording back on the gossiper and let her believe she had a role to play in protecting their daughters—“then word will get around.”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“I’ll tell my sister right away.” Melinda pulled out her phone. Alyson looked around. She wasn’t the only woman who had her phone out and was typing furiously on the screen.
Myah might not like her actions, but Alyson was pleased.
No child deserved to be hurt the way he’d hurt Keera.
The moment Myah walked into the room without her daughter by her side, she was surrounded by the women in the room wanting to ensure they could get their daughters in for private lessons, and it thrilled her heart to see it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
IDA
Thanksgiving
Ida always enjoyed the American tradition of setting aside a day to give thanks. She had a lot to be thankful for and never forgot that.
Gordon on the other hand could care less about the significance of the day other than food and football.
“Would you help me, you old fool,” she called out to him as she struggled to get the leaf for the dining room table out from beneath their stairwell.
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” he called as his feet shuffled down the hallway.
Together they pulled it out of the cubbyhole and worked together to get the table extended the way Ida wanted it.
“Why did you have to invite so many people anyways?” he grumbled.
“They are our family. That’s enough out of you.” She swatted him on the arm and then pushed him back toward the rec room, where she could hear the sounds of a football game playing on the television.
She expected the girls to arrive within the hour, and she wanted the tablecloth at least to be out and ironed. She was in the laundry room ironing when she heard the cascade of running footsteps slap against the floor and the voices of her grandchildren calling out for her. That feeling of thankfulness filled her heart as she smoothed out the last remaining wrinkles and met her daughters in the kitchen.
It had been a few weeks since she’d seen her two daughters together. Alyson had taken Tricia’s news of their past pretty hard, and instead of focusing on rebuilding their relationship, she’d focused on helping Myah and Keera, offering to watch Keera after Myah’s work schedule got busier.
Last week she’d asked to meet with both Ida and Tricia for a chat. Apparently, Alyson had started to see a counselor.
“Just in time to help set the table.” Ida carried in the tablecloth and carefully laid it over the table, flattening out the creases and making sure the cloth lay even on each side.
The girls pulled out the china from the cabinet in the other room, china that Ida had started collecting when she was a newly married woman.
“Smells delicious, Oma.” Lyla helped to set the silverware, a huge smile on her face as she sniffed the air.
“We’ve got turkey, stuffing, potatoes, and casseroles. I expect you to eat your fill, do you hear?” Ida attempted a stern face but quickly lost it as Lyla launched herself into her arms.
“Is there pie too?” her granddaughter whispered excitedly.
“Is there pie, she asks.” Ida tsked before she gave Lyla a wink.
Alyson opened up a bag full of dishes she’d brought, and Ida swallowed a groan. “What’s that you’ve got in there?” she asked instead.
“I know you said not to bring anything but juice, but I wanted to try some new vegetable casseroles. Is there room in the oven to keep them warm?” Without waiting for an answer, she pulled open the oven door and slid her dishes onto the bottom rack.
Ida smothered her laughter with a cough.
“Are you getting a cold, Mom?” Alyson asked.
“No, no, just a tickle in my throat.”
“Myah is just behind us.” Tricia handed cups to Katy.
Ida busied herself in the kitchen with the last-minute preparations while her family around her pitched in to help. In no time, the table was set, and they just waited on Myah.
“She was just behind us.” Tricia checked her phone and then set it down. “Has she contacted you, Aly?”
Alyson checked her own phone and shook her head just as the doorbell rang.
While the girls went to answer the door, Gordon came into the kitchen with Mark and Scott. “Is it time to eat yet?” He leaned over and kissed Ida on the check. “Smells good.”
“Sorry I’m late.” Myah walked in with a bag in hand and set it down on the counter. “Pickles, as promised. Along with some whipping cream for pies.” She held on to Keera’s hand, who hid behind her mother.
Ida watched Keera, concerned about what she was seeing. Everything was still so new. It had only been a few weeks since her life blew apart. From what she understood, Keera hadn’t returned to dancing, and she was still quite withdrawn at school.
“Oma?” Lyla tugged at her hand.
“Ja, meine Mausi?” She probably should stop calling her a little mouse. The past few weeks, she’d come out of her shell.
“Do we really get to sit at the big table this year?”
“You sure do.” It might be crowded, but she wanted the whole family at the table.
Myah came and gave her a hug. “Thank you for inviting us.” She kissed Ida on both cheeks and then squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry we were late. Keera is having a hard day,” she whispered.
“You’re family now. I expect you here every holiday meal, capeesh?” She looked at Keera out of the corner of her eye and noticed she was holding hands with Lyla.
Myah nodded. “Thank you.”
“All right.” Ida clapped her hands together. “Sit. Doesn’t matter where. But children, you give the adults the big seats, ja?” She looked specifically at her grandsons.
In the hustle of the men and children sitting down while the girls helped Ida set the food out on the table, no one seemed to notice that Lyla and Keera were missing—no one other than Ida.
She heard their voices in the hallway and went to listen in. She pretended she was looking for something in the fridge.
“Are you okay?” Lyla asked Keera. “Why were you so late?”
“I didn’t want to come.” Keera’s voice broke, and Ida had a feeling she was struggling not to cry. Tears came easily to the little one lately.
“Why not?”
“Just didn’t. Things are different now.”
Ida’s heart sank.
“You don’t miss your stepdad, do you?”
“Are you kidding me?” There was anger in Keera’s voice. “You don’t get it. No one does.”
Ida needed to stop the conversation. This was something for adults to deal with, not little Lyla. But she stopped when she heard her granddaughter speak.
“I might not, but you’re not alone. You’re family now. Oma even said it. And today will be special. Trust me.”
“Special? How?” Ida heard the spark of interest in Keera’s voice and was proud of her little granddaughter.
“Oma always has a special surprise for us. I heard her talk to Opa a few days ago that this would be an extra special day.” Her excited whisper did exactly what Ida thought Lyla meant it to do.
It gained Keera’s attention.
“Really?”
Ida closed the fridge door and headed back to the table. “If you girls want any of these mashed potatoes, you’d better hurry up,” she called out.
It made her heart happy to see a smile on Keera’s face as the girls skipped together, hand in hand, toward the table.
That little girl’s life wasn’t going to be easy, and her heart would be broken over and over again, but she would be okay. The people at this table, those who loved her, would make sure of it.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing is never a solitary voyage.
Thank you to my Super Aunt Deb (as she’s affectionately known by my girls) for the late-night talks and text conversations, for answering all my questions, and for opening my eyes to the strength of those who dedicate their lives to protecting children. You are my hero, and without you, this book truly would not have been written.
Without the help of Lisa Snyder and Michael Bannerman, the details about how a school handles specific difficult situations would have been less true to life, though any errors made in this story are completely my own.
The journey I have taken throughout the creation of this story would not have been possible without the support of my readers, my SSS group, and my girlfriends who drag me away to the mountains to write and encourage me to imbibe Buttershots. To Melissa, for all that you do; to my amazing agent, Pamela Harty; and to the best editor in the world, Carmen Johnson. And finally, an apology to my family for getting lost in my story way too often and having to call for pizza delivery—although, honestly, if there’s a choice between my cooking or ordering delivery, we all know who’s the first to pick up the phone! I love you, and your support means the world to me!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2013 Vanessa Pressacco Studios
With a passion for storytelling, Steena Holmes took her dream of being a full-time writer and made it a reality, writing her first novel while working as a receptionist. She won the National Indie Excellence Book Award in 2012 for her bestselling novel Finding Emma and has since continued to write stories that touch hearts. Holmes currently lives in Calgary, Alberta, with her husband, three daughters, and two dogs. When she’s not traveling, she is either dreaming of a new adventure or writing about it.
The Word Game Page 18
