“Understandable. Taffeta told me that Sarah yearns to have a dog, not a cat.”
“Yes, that’s true. I told her she’s not old enough yet to housebreak a dog and that we’re too old to do it for her. A kitten will go in a litter box, no training necessary.”
Barney made a mental note to get Sarah a puppy and a kitten. Hell, he’d resort to bribery. A man had to do what a man had to do.
• • •
Taffeta was absurdly nervous when she called her daughter that night. Sarah’s voice sounded so sweet over the phone. Taffeta let the child talk about what mattered to her for a while, the main topic of her choice being the disappearance of all the cosmetics that Caitlin, the stripper, had purchased for her.
“I think Grandpa stole my makeup and threw it away,” she said with an edge of anger in her voice. “He and Grammy don’t like for me to wear it.”
Taffeta wished she could commiserate with Sarah, but Cameron and Grace needed her support when they made parenting decisions that displeased their granddaughter. “I am glad it’s gone. I don’t like for you to wear it, either.”
“Why? You wear it.”
“I’m an adult, and you are not. Five-year-old girls don’t need to wear cosmetics. They’re beautiful without them. You are beautiful without them. Have you considered that your wearing makeup may be one of the reasons your friends don’t like you very much anymore? It makes you look different from them.” In truth, Sarah looked like a miniature clown. She wore far too much blusher, she couldn’t stay inside the lines while applying lipstick, and she smeared her mascara. Taffeta was delighted to hear that Cameron had thrown the cosmetics away. “I can’t wait to see you without makeup. I’ll bet you’re a real knockout.”
“I’ve got no sippazz without it.”
Taffeta smiled. “Do you mean pizzazz?”
“Yes, pizzazz. Caitlin says us girls gotta go for the glitz so the guys will like us.”
Oh, how Taffeta was coming to dislike Caitlin. She settled for saying, “Well, I think you have plenty of pizzazz just the way you are.”
Sarah went on to complain about her iPad being broken. She couldn’t use it to visit Internet sites that she liked anymore. “I think Grandpa did something to it.”
Taffeta couldn’t let Cameron take the heat for that. “Actually I set up some parental controls on your iPad when I visited your house.”
“Why the hell did you do that?”
“Because I’m your parent, and children your age shouldn’t be allowed to visit inappropriate sites. There are some evil people on the Net, Sarah, and it’s my job to protect you from them.”
“You’re not really my mommy now. I don’t live with you.”
It broke Taffeta’s heart to hear her daughter say that. “I’m still your real mommy anyway, Sarah, and I hope to have you come live with me very soon.”
“I ain’t gonna live with no cop. That ain’t the way I roll, cupcake.”
Taffeta assumed that Caitlin had taught Sarah that expression. She knew for certain that Grace and Cameron never used the word ain’t.
“That’s actually the reason I called, Sarah. Barney has moved out of the house, so when you come to visit me soon, he won’t be here.”
“Are you getting a deport?”
Taffeta smiled sadly. “No, we aren’t getting a divorce. We just aren’t going to live together until you feel comfortable with having Barney in your life.”
“Well, I’m not ever gonna want him in my life. Cops are assholes.”
“If you never want Barney in your life, then he won’t be. You are my little girl, and you are the most important person in the world to me. With me, you’ll always come first.”
Those words were the most difficult that Taffeta had ever uttered. She could almost hear the door slamming closed on her relationship with Barney.
Chapter Twenty-two
After ending her conversation with Sarah, Taffeta wandered through the empty house, feeling as if something vital and necessary inside her had withered away to nothing. Barney. She had just tossed him out of her life, and now she saw him everywhere she looked, standing in front of the stove, dancing with her in the living room, eating with her at the table, and making love to her in the king-size bed. How could something so perfect between two people possibly end? She missed him so much that every part of her body ached.
She drew her cell phone from her pocket to text him. Do I really love Sarah more than anyone else in the world? There are different kinds of love, Barney. Mine for you has nothing to do with my love for Sarah, and the two kinds of love are totally different. I can’t do this! I need you here to hold me tonight.
In moments, he wrote back. Be strong, sweetheart. I know how much you love me. I love you just as much. But sometimes a man and woman have to do what’s best for their kid. Sarah needs time to accept me before I thrust myself into her life.
On one level, Taffeta knew Barney was right, but there was a huge corner of her heart that belonged to only Barney, and without him she felt hollowed out and fragile, like one of those decorative eggs, shell left intact but drained empty on the inside.
She forced herself to eat, choosing her old standby, a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. As she sat down to her meal, she recalled telling Barney over exactly the same fare that it might be their last supper. The thought made tears rush to her eyes, and she felt as if a giant, steel claw were crushing her heart.
She stumbled to bed, curled into a ball, and held his pillow close with her nose pressed against the linen. Faint traces of his scent lingered to tantalize her senses and deepen her pain. Barney. How could she live without him?
• • •
Saturday morning, the overcast skies reflected Taffeta’s glum and hopeless mood as she opened her shop and prepared for the business day. As she set up her till, she thought of Barney. When she went upstairs to the flat to make a cup of coffee, she recalled all the good times that they had shared over more delicious brews from the Jake ’n’ Bake.
Somehow she made it through the day, but her feet felt leaden and there seemed to be not a second that she wasn’t thinking of him. He was, beyond a doubt, the one and only love of her life. What if Sarah never accepted him? What if Taffeta and Barney could never live together again as man and wife? Taffeta couldn’t settle for occasional dates with him for sex in a loft or a cheap motel room. That wasn’t a marriage. Husbands and wives were supposed to fall asleep in each other’s arms every night. They were supposed to face the trials of life holding hands and supporting each other.
At day’s end, Taffeta closed up her store and went out back to start her car and drive home. Only it wasn’t her home. Barney had resurrected the old farmhouse from ruins and brought it back to life. Instead of going directly inside, she sat on one of the two Adirondack chairs, gazed at the tree where she’d once envisioned Sarah playing on a tire swing, and burst into tears.
She cried until she was exhausted. Her puffy face ached. She could no longer breathe through her nose. But the pain within her hadn’t eased a bit. He was gone, not because he didn’t love her, but because he loved her so much. Somehow she had to live without him, at least for now, and possibly for months or years.
She wasn’t sure she could do that. Everything within her rebelled. Surely there had to be another way for them to get Sarah past her fear of cops.
Whether Sarah understood it or not, Barney would be the best father in the world to her. He would love her and support her. He’d play with her and laugh with her. When she misbehaved, he would intervene with a firm but gentle hand.
The three of them were a family. It was important for Sarah to have a real family, with at least one sibling. If anyone on earth understood how important being part of a family was, it was Taffeta, who’d grown up without one. She wanted her daughter to have everything that she had yearned for as a kid.
Not only a mother, but also a father.
• • •
Barney’s personal cell phone hummed a tune, notifying him that he had an incoming message. He’d taken the night shift and had desk duty, so he was able to draw the phone from his pocket and thumb the screen to read: I’ve cried until I have no more tears to shed. I miss you so much that all I do is wander from room to room, remembering the good times between us. Is this separation really the only solution, Barney? I love you so much. It just doesn’t seem right not to be with you.
Barney sighed. Reading Taffeta’s words tore at his heart because loving her as he did meant that he never wanted her to cry unless they were happy tears. He shared all her emotions, sometimes feeling as if he could endure losing his right arm more easily than losing her. He lay awake at night, yearning to have her tucked snugly against him. His body ached with unsatisfied need of her. And hell, maybe separating for a while wasn’t the only alternative, but for now it was all he could think of.
He had hope, though. By attending Sarah’s parent-day lunches, maybe he could make headway with the little girl. He’d chosen not to tell Taffeta about Cameron’s plan so he wouldn’t get her hopes up and then dash them. Knowing he would see Sarah on Tuesday, only three days away, was helping to keep his spirits up. Taffeta didn’t have anything to lift hers and give her hope.
Barney considered telling her about the lunch visits. At least that would give Taffeta something to hold on to that might sustain her as they went through this difficult time. But no. Barney didn’t kid himself. Sarah might be a difficult nut to crack, and his giving Taffeta false hope would be cruel.
He wrote back to her. I’m feeling lost without you, too. I love you so very much. I lie awake at night, missing you, wanting you, needing to hold you. But this isn’t about us, Taffy. Sarah comes first. I can’t make choices that are better for me, knowing that she may suffer because I’ve been selfish.
Within seconds, she texted back. Then just come see me, not to stay all night, but just so we can be with each other for a while. Please?
Barney was on duty and couldn’t leave the department. He replied, Then we’ll be lying to the kid. Do we want her to grow up thinking it’s okay to do one thing and tell us that she’s doing something else? Parents teach by example. It’s our job to teach Sarah to always be completely honest.
Barney received no response. His gut clenched. He could almost see Taffeta curled up into a miserable ball on his bed, sobbing her heart out. She wasn’t a woman who easily cried. He had always admired that she wasn’t the whiny type who could turn on the tear spigot whenever life gave her a hard knock. Knowing that she’d cried tonight made his heart hurt for her. It also made him feel guilty as hell for not being there to comfort her.
• • •
Taffeta lay on Barney’s bed, facing the nightstand where she had placed the dated photograph of Sarah. Barney was right, she decided. She wanted her daughter to mature into a straight-shooting and honest young woman, and no one could ingrain those qualities into her character but her parents. Or in this case, her mother. If Sarah clung to her terror of cops, Barney might never be a father figure in the child’s life.
Taffeta squeezed her eyes closed, determined not to cry anymore. Blubbering about every little thing wasn’t her way. Growing up in countless foster homes, she’d learned that tears accomplished nothing. In order to survive, she’d had to be strong. In order to make something of herself, she’d had to be driven. Going to college and carrying a full load of credits while she worked long shifts at night hadn’t been easy. She’d made do with very little sleep so she could spend hours studying. Money had been tight. She’d wanted lots of things she hadn’t been able to afford. But she had persevered.
She would be just as strong now, she promised herself. All crying did was give her a headache the next day. If Barney couldn’t be a part of her and Sarah’s life, she would have to accept that and move forward. Not so long ago, her only dream had been to have custody of Sarah again. No man had factored into her plans, and she hadn’t felt the lack.
Now, though, she’d fallen in love with Barney, and he wasn’t just any man. He was her one and only.
Her phone jingled. She lifted it from the nightstand and, bleary-eyed from weeping, tried to read Barney’s message. It took her a moment to make out the words.
Law enforcement isn’t my only career choice, Taffy. If Sarah doesn’t come around, I’ll quit this damned job in a heartbeat. I can find something else to do. Hell, maybe I’ll even make more money. Wearing a badge isn’t the be-all of my existence. You are. Please don’t cry and feel sad. I’ll fix this. One way or another, we’ll be a family. You’ve got my word on it.
Taffeta closed her eyes and clutched the phone to her chest. Barney. He loved being in law enforcement. She’d never actually asked him if he liked his job. It hadn’t been necessary. He had been born to be a cop. Knowing that he would give up his career in order to be with her was both exhilarating and devastating. It thrilled her to know that he loved her so much that he would alter his whole life for her. It tore her apart to imagine him making that kind of sacrifice.
She fell asleep with the phone still pressed over her heart. It was all she had of Barney to hang on to.
• • •
Barney eagerly awaited the following Tuesday. Since his marriage to Taffeta, he’d been using his seniority at the department to avoid taking night shifts so he could spend his evenings with his wife. But now that he couldn’t be with her, he’d covered two night shifts already to build up some comp time to get Tuesdays off.
On Tuesday morning, he left Mystic Creek at eight sharp. He wore jeans, a long-sleeved civilian shirt, riding boots, and a ball cap. At a private school, some of the fathers might show up wearing suits, but Barney wasn’t a suit man except at funerals and weddings, and even then he wore western-cut apparel. During the drive, he must have rubbed his jaw a dozen times to make sure he’d gotten a good shave. He kept tossing aside his hat to finger-comb his hair. Damn. He’d dated some really hot babes and never felt this worried about how he looked. It was just so important that his appearance would appeal to Sarah and not frighten her.
Cameron Gentry was standing in front of the school waiting for Barney when he showed up. Barney parked his truck and loped through the lot, hit the sidewalk, and didn’t slow down until he reached Cameron’s side.
“Am I late?” Barney asked.
“No,” the older man assured him. “I just showed up early in case you did.”
Barney noted that Cameron wore lightweight khaki slacks and a short-sleeved plaid shirt. That made Barney feel better. His own attire was a notch down on the dressy scale, but he wasn’t so far off target with his selection of attire that people would stare.
Cameron gave Barney an understanding smile. “You look fine, Barney. Stop worrying.”
“Am I that obvious?”
The older man laughed and clapped a hand over Barney’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get this lunch started.” He lifted a metal lunch pail with colorful butterflies all over it. “Tessa fixed us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sliced apples, and juice packets. Sarah is a PB and J girl.”
The interior of the school looked different from what Barney was accustomed to, with no student lockers lining the hallway.
As if reading Barney’s mind, Cameron said, “This place is leased and wasn’t built to be a school. Each class has a cloakroom where the kids stow their outerwear and backpacks. The price is right for the church that runs the school, and the kids get a quality education from grades K through six. Then they graduate to a combination middle school and high school building a few blocks away.”
Cameron led Barney to a set of double doors at the end of the corridor that opened onto a fenced playground bordered by a spacious parklike area peppered with picnic tables and shade trees. No other adults had arrived yet, so the two
men had the place to themselves. They sat near a large maple already leafy with spring growth. In Mystic Creek, the trees were only now just starting to bud.
Cameron set aside the lunch box. “Just so you know, Grace and I have been trying to prepare Sarah for this visit. Grace got her first treatment Friday in this round of chemo, but she isn’t feeling too bad yet. She helped me select online videos of policemen doing good deeds, and we sat with Sarah to watch them on my laptop last night.”
“And?”
Cameron shrugged. “Sarah still detests cops. I tried to find snippets of footage with cops rescuing animals, but I came up empty. I undoubtedly used poor search terms. I’m a whiz on a computer when I’m working with our office software, but I’m not good at much else.”
Barney heard chattering as children burst from the building. He glanced toward the doors and saw kids swarming out of them like ants from a nest. Adults followed, calling to their kids and pointing to tables. Some of the fathers wore suits, but others wore jeans and work boots, or casual clothing, which made Barney feel less conspicuous.
Sarah, with her glossy dark hair and enormous brown eyes, was easy to spot, not because Barney saw no other darling little girls, but because Sarah froze in her tracks when she noticed him. Stiff-legged, with her tiny fists knotted at her sides, she moved into a slow walk toward Barney and Cameron.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Cameron called. “I brought a friend to have lunch with us.”
Sarah came just close enough to their table for her voice to be heard. To her grandfather, she said, “You tried to trick me!” And to Barney, she said, “My mommy lied to me. She told me you were gone and I’m the most important person in the world to her. I hate her now.” She jabbed a tiny finger at Barney. “You tell her don’t ever call me again! She lies, just like my daddy!”
New Leaf Page 27
