by Judy Duarte
After ending the call, Julie hung her black dress back in the closet. As disappointment swirled inside her like bathwater circling the drain, she did her best to shake it off.
She told herself she’d actually dodged a bullet tonight. No matter how charming and handsome Adam might be, he was definitely the wrong guy for her. And she’d better not forget that.
Yet as she reached for the yellow dress, her resolve wavered, leaving her unsure about anything—especially her feelings and her assessment of Adam Santiago.
* * *
For the first time Adam could remember, canceling a date at the last minute left him feeling guilty. But then again, before today, he’d never had a phony reason for doing so. But the closer it got to the dinner hour on Saturday night, the more he regretted asking Julie out in the first place.
Not that he wasn’t attracted to her. She seemed to grow prettier and more appealing each time he saw her. But she wasn’t his type. He liked the risk-takers and fun-lovers who didn’t expect anything long-term. And when he took Jesse back to Kidville on Wednesday evening, Jim Hoffman had pretty much confirmed his fears.
I noticed you eyeing Julie, Jim had said. And I don’t blame you. She’s a keeper—the kind of woman a man takes home to meet his mom.
Adam didn’t have a mom. Not anymore. But he knew what Jim meant. Julie was a white-picket-fence type—and marriage wasn’t in the cards for him.
So even if they’d gone out tonight and had a good time—and he didn’t doubt they would have—he knew that, in the long run, one way or another, he’d end up disappointing her. So he figured that by pulling the I-have-to-work-overtime card he would save them both a lot of grief.
After hanging up, he tried to convince himself that he’d done the right thing, the noble thing. But he couldn’t quite buy that. And now he felt more unsettled about the decision than he’d expected.
As if sensing Adam’s conflicting thoughts, his temporary roommate let out a little whine.
Adam shot a glance at the tricolored stray who sat next to the brown leather recliner, studying him with timid eyes.
At least she wasn’t hiding behind the chair. So he eased toward her, dropped to his knees and held out his hand for her to sniff. “Hey, doggie.”
He waited as the seconds ticked by, wondering if she’d come to him this time. When she didn’t, he made silly kissy sounds. When that didn’t work, he went into the kitchen and pulled out a box of treats.
“Hey, girl. How ’bout a dog biscuit?”
To his mild surprise, she began to inch toward him, one scooch at a time, her tail thumping the floor.
You’d think that after he’d rescued her, given her a bath and flea dip, provided her with food and a warm place to park her furry butt, he wouldn’t have to bribe her. She really should have figured out he was trustworthy a lot sooner than this.
“See?” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She sniffed at his hand, then gave it a shy, tentative lick, the first sign of the progress they’d made. He rewarded her with the biscuit, which she wolfed down with gusto.
“You don’t know this, but I’d planned to take you to the animal shelter right after I found you. Someone might have taken you home, and then I could’ve told Eddie you were doing great. But I didn’t have the heart to do it.”
He’d thought long and hard about it, though. If she had a microchip, the animal control officer might have been able to find her rightful owner. But when he’d studied the scrawny, neglected little critter, unexpected sympathy sucker-punched him.
Funny how that could happen. He’d even gone shopping at a pet store last Sunday afternoon and picked up a few toys, which she didn’t play with, and a padded bed, which she only sniffed. Not that he planned to keep her. He’d send her things with her when he found her a new home.
Oh, yeah? he asked himself. What about the doggie door you installed?
What about it? he countered. She has to be able to let herself outside when I’m not home.
Adam scratched behind the dog’s ear, letting her know he’d do right by her.
But who was he kidding? The dog deserved way more than he could give her. She needed a home with a family, although there was no way she’d be able to hold her own with any wild-ass kids who didn’t know how to be patient or gentle.
No, he’d decided. Before she could possibly be adopted by a family, she’d need someone experienced at rescuing abused dogs to work with her until she was ready to transition to a real home.
It wouldn’t be right for him to even think about keeping her. He’d have to let her go.
Kind of like he’d just done with Julie. He’d let her down gently, which would allow her to find the right guy, one who could give her everything she deserved.
Adam gave the dog one final stroke, then got to his feet, moving slowly so she didn’t shy away—or dash back behind the recliner.
She didn’t, which was a relief. But he still felt at a loss.
If Stan were still alive, Adam would have talked things over with him. He glanced at the old-style telephone and the answering machine that sat next to it. If he couldn’t talk to Stan, he could listen to his voice and maybe he’d be able to imagine what his wise mentor might have said.
So he crossed the room, ignoring the black desk phone and going right to the answering machine. Then he pushed the play button to hear the message he’d saved.
“Hey, Adam. I won’t be home tonight. I’m going to take Darlene on the town. That gal might be the one woman in the world who can change this ol’ bachelor’s mind about commitments.
“Yeah, yeah. You think I’m going soft. Believe it or not, I went the first fifty years of my life without getting roped into marriage, but then I met Darlene, and I actually like the idea of spending the rest of my life with her. Maybe it’s time for you to find your Darlene, too.”
Little had Stan known his last words to Adam had been prophetic. He actually had spent the rest of his life with Darlene. After dinner that night, while they were on their way to her house, a drunk driver ran a red light and broadsided their car, killing them both on impact.
Adam still grieved for his friend and mentor, and while listening to his voice was always bittersweet, it also had a way of centering him. But it hadn’t worked out that way today. Instead, Stan’s words had another impact. They set off a sense of loneliness and a longing for something elusive.
Hell, even if Adam wanted to settle down with one special lady, like Stan had hoped to do with Darlene, he didn’t see himself falling in love with anyone. Even if he wanted to, he’d never be able to pull it off. He’d built up too many walls over the years, too many barriers—like the one that had made him cancel a date at the last minute.
He shot a glance at the dog, who’d remained in the same spot near the recliner, her head slightly bent in submission, leery eyes gazing at him as if she could read his mind.
“That’s right,” he told her. “How can I give a woman what she needs, when I can only provide you with the basics, like food, water and shelter? And you need more than that. You deserve to live with someone who can offer you companionship and affection.”
And Adam didn’t have that in him. Never had, never would.
* * *
Julie hadn’t seen or heard from Adam in the past six days, although there was a good reason for that. She’d avoided Kidville on Wednesday, his usual day to volunteer. Still, he had her number and could’ve called if he’d wanted to.
At first she’d been happy that he hadn’t, but by the time Friday rolled around, she found herself checking her cell phone for missed calls. It had become an annoying habit, and she looked one more time before getting out of her car and heading to the classroom, where she was providing a music therapy session.
Thirty minutes later, as Julie put away her guitar, as well as the tambourines, maraca
s and kazoos, she decided to stick around for a while. Since there was zero parental involvement with school activities, there never seemed to be enough adult hands. So there always seemed to be a list of things to do.
Before she could offer her help, the teacher approached. “You’re amazing, Julie. The kids love you, and so do I.”
“I’m glad. It’s fun to see the children respond to music. And I enjoy working with them, even when I’m not playing the guitar or singing.” Julie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “In fact, I don’t have anything planned this afternoon, so if there’s something I can help you do, just let me know.”
“Actually,” Mrs. Wright said, “I’m glad to hear that. I’m supposed to meet with Donna and Ms. Kincaid, Eddie and Cassie’s social worker. Jim will cover for me, but it might be best to separate the kids during art. Would you mind supervising the younger ones while they finger-paint?”
“No problem. That sounds simple enough. But...” Julie bit down on her bottom lip. “This probably isn’t any of my business, but what’s that meeting about?”
“Ms. Kincaid thinks the children would be better off living with a family, rather than in a group home. And the Hoffmans and I disagree.”
“I do, too. They’re doing so well here.” And if they left and went somewhere else, Julie would lose contact with them. “I’m sure Ms. Kincaid will value your opinion.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Karen said. “She’s pretty strict and a bit cynical for a woman who’s supposed to look out for a child’s best interests.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s not a bad person, but she’s got some strong ideas about what children need. And in my opinion, they’re pretty outdated. Hopefully, she’ll retire soon.”
“But maybe not soon enough.”
“Actually,” Karen said, “from what I heard, that day is coming fairly soon, and she’s determined to go out as a shining star when it comes to placing the remaining children on her caseload.”
“If she’s insistent or headstrong about putting Eddie and Cassie in a real home, I just might offer to take them myself.” The words rolled off Julie’s tongue without a thought, but the idea wasn’t half-bad. In fact, she rather liked the sound of that option, although it would change her life dramatically.
Still, she’d grown fond of Eddie and Cassie. And maybe, if she could provide a better life for them, any changes she had to make would be worth it.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Julie was seated on a child-size chair, overseeing five children in the art room.
Cassie sat at Julie’s right, and Mason, a mischievous red-haired six-year-old, was to her left, his hands a green mess.
“I need more paint,” Mason said.
He clearly had plenty, but since he seemed to be tapping into his creative side and having fun as he did, Julie took the plastic container and squirted another glob onto his paper.
Unlike Mason, Cassie was hesitant to get her hands dirty.
“Don’t worry,” Julie told the timid little girl, “the paint washes off easily. And it won’t stain your clothes. Just smoosh it around with your fingers.” She watched for a moment as Cassie tentatively used her index finger and made a blue streak. “That’s it, honey. There you go.”
While the kids worked, Julie reached into her purse, which she’d set under the table, removed her iPhone and checked for missed calls. Nope. Still nothing.
Oh, for Pete’s sake. Get a grip. She shoved the cell back where it belonged.
What was the matter with her? The guy was so not her type. And he certainly wasn’t worth stressing over. She suspected he had a variety of attractive women coming in and out of his life as if passing through a revolving door. And Julie wasn’t up for a casual fling.
As the door squeaked open, she glanced up, expecting to see either Karen or one of the Hoffmans. Instead, she spotted Adam, who was dressed casually in a light blue button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and black jeans. When he flashed a heart-stopping grin, her breath caught.
He crossed the room and approached the table, his gorgeous brown eyes zeroing in on her.
“What a...surprise,” she said, doing her best to conjure an unaffected smile. But the biggest surprise was that she’d actually been able to form a greeting at all.
He gazed at the messy table and gooey hands. “Wow. Look at all those amazing colors.”
Cassie, whose hands were only a bit blue, used her forearm to swipe at a loose strand of hair from her face. As far as Julie knew, the little girl had yet to talk to anyone, but she no longer clung to her brother when they were separated for different art projects. And during music, she smiled whenever the other children sang silly songs.
Adam knelt beside Cassie, taking an interest in her and her artwork. But Julie couldn’t blame him. She was drawn to the doe-eyed child, too.
“I like your picture,” Adam told Cassie.
“Then you should see mine!” Mason called out. “Cassie’s paper is mostly still clean and white, but look at all the green I used.”
“Very nice,” Julie told the boy who’d managed to get paint on his arms, nearly up to the elbows. “I like both pictures. Everyone is doing a super job—no matter how much paint they use.”
As the children continued to swirl their hands through the paint, Adam turned to Julie. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He nodded toward the sink.
What do you want to talk about? she nearly asked. Instead, she pushed back the small chair on which she’d been seated and got to her feet, both eager and reluctant to hear what he had to say.
Adam led her to the area where the kids would wash up later, then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is Cassie talking yet?”
“No,” Julie said. “Not as far as I know. But she responds silently to instructions. And she’s obedient. I think she’s coming along. She’s even smiled a couple of times.”
“That sounds like a step in the right direction. She’s probably afraid to do something wrong and get in trouble. Brady had a real mean streak, and she may not have known when to expect a smack in the head.”
Julie winced. “That breaks my heart.”
They stood like that for several beats, side by side, gazing at Cassie, who seemed more afraid than reluctant to get her hands dirty.
“How’s Eddie doing?” Adam asked.
“All right, but he’s been leery of letting Cassie out of his sight.”
“Yeah, I figured. He’s been her only protector for nearly a year. Maybe more.”
Julie knew what it felt like to be someone’s only protector. But it felt even worse when you realized that you’d failed.
“Have you had any luck in finding their mother?” she asked.
“Not yet. But I have a feeling she didn’t leave on her own volition. I’m going to ask Jim about getting a sample of the kids’ DNA to compare to any Jane Does in the morgue.”
“Their situation is so sad. But at least they know they’re both safe here.”
“I knew that would happen, and I’m glad. But I’d feel a lot better if Cassie would start talking.”
“Me, too. Jim discussed her situation with the child psychologist, and Dr. Wang told him to give Cassie more time.”
Adam nodded, but his eyes remained focused on the little girl. He seemed genuinely concerned. Maybe that was why he’d dropped by Kidville today.
As silly as it was, and as much as Julie hated to admit it, she had hoped that he’d come to see her.
“I thought you worked with Jesse on Wednesdays,” she said.
“Yes, but I’ve been working overtime this week and missed, so I came to see him today. But I wanted to check on Cassie and Eddie first. After that, I’ll take Jesse for an ice cream.”
“I’ll bet Cassie and Eddie would like to join you guys.”
&nb
sp; “They have ice cream almost every night for dessert.”
“I wasn’t talking about getting a treat. I meant they’d probably enjoy spending time with you.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But I’m making some real headway with Jesse. And so far, I’ve made it a point to mentor one kid at a time.”
She wondered if he had the same philosophy when it came to his dating life—just one woman at a time. But she kept her curiosity at bay.
“It’s probably time to help those kids clean up,” she said, although she felt inclined to keep talking to Adam.
He followed her to the table, which by now was a real mess. And so were the kids. That is, all but Cassie, who was studying her blue palms and fingertips with a scrunched brow.
“I just thought of something I need to do to finish my picture,” Mason said, his eyes bright, his smile contagious. “Can you give me a squidge more paint?”
Against her better judgment, Julie squirted one last green glob on his paper. Before she could turn away, he smacked his artwork, leaving his handprint and splattering paint in all directions, including Julie’s face.
“All done!” Mason said. When he looked up at Julie, his jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide. “I’m sorry.”
Julie didn’t need a mirror to know she was adorned with an array of green freckles.
Cassie appeared terrified, as if she knew all hell was about to break loose.
When Adam laughed, breaking the tension in the room, Julie laughed, too. “Now I look like a green-speckled frog.”
Mason chuckled. “Yeah, you do. Just like the one in that song you sang with us.”
“I’ll bet,” she said. “Maybe next time we should have art first, then music. That way my croaks will be more realistic.”
