Pocketful of Sand(51)

“I think I just did, but I’d be happy to show you later if you’re that interested.”

“Oh, I’m interested alright.”

I’m so close I’m practically pressing her back to the cold glass of the window. It would take so little for me to get her out of her pants and wrap those luscious legs around my waist. Just a flick here and a zip there.

“You’re dangerous. Did you know that?” I tell her.

“Funny, I was just thinking that same thing about you a few minutes ago.”

“Stay with me, Eden,” I say impulsively. I’m not even sure what I mean, what I’m asking of her.

Again, her transparent eyes tell me what she’s going to say before she says it. “I can’t. Emmy…”

“She can stay, too, of course. I meant both of you.”

“She needs her room, her things. She needs that stability. We move so much, it’s the only thing I can give her on a consistent basis. Other than me. I, uh, I guess you’ll just have to come to me,” she adds with a sexy twist of her lips.

I smile down into her face. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”





TWENTY-THREE


Eden



THE LITTLE COTTAGE we’ve called home for almost three months feels empty tonight. Cole got a call from Jason about a renter who lost hot water, so Emmy and I came on home while he went to fix it. He didn’t know how long he’d be, so we didn’t make any set plans to see each other or talk to each other later. Maybe that’s the reason I feel off.

Emmy seemed to notice the quiet when we first got here, but she’s lying on the living room floor, coloring happily now. We played a game and read a story, so determined was I that she not notice his absence. Or my reaction to it. Whatever else happens in my life, it’s imperative that Emmy not be affected by it. And the melancholy I’m fighting has me wondering if having Cole in our lives was such a good idea.

It’s too late now, though, and the thought of giving him up is becoming increasingly distasteful.

I’m sitting quietly in the chair, watching my daughter draw and listening to her hum, when she throws down her crayon and climbs to her feet. She races the short distance to me and throws herself into my arms. She puts her little hands on either of my cheeks and squeezes, giving me “fish face” as she loves to do.

She’s smiling at me when she observes, “You laughed a lot today, Momma.”

“I did?”

“Uh-huh.” The expression on her face is that of someone who has uncovered a wonderful secret. “You like him, don’t you?”

Hmmm. How to answer that carefully…

“I think he’s very nice. Don’t you?”

She nods enthusiastically. “He makes good French toast. And he dances funny.”

She wrinkles her nose and I do the same, nodding in agreement. “He does, doesn’t he?”

Emmy giggles. “But I like it.”

“I do, too.”

“He makes you happy, right?”

“You make me happy,” I skirt.

“But he could make you happy if I’m not here, right?”

“Nothing could make me happy if you weren’t here. I love you too much, doodle bug.”

Her smile melts into a disappointed face. “But you’d try, right?”

I try not to make a big deal of her odd questions and her concern with my happiness. I figure it has to have something to do with her emotional scars from what happened. I don’t even pretend to know the way a child’s mind works, but it worries me when she starts this stuff.

“Emmy, why do you worry about me being happy without you?”

“Because I might not always be here.”

“What makes you think that?”

She shrugs, letting her hands fall away from my face to rest on my chest. “Sometimes angels go to heaven. And you said I’m an angel.”

“You’re my angel, but that doesn’t mean you’ll go to heaven anytime soon. Most of the time, God lets mommas and daddys keep their angels for a long, long time.”

As she ponders this, she pooches her lips out over and over, like she’s kissing. “But Mr. Danzer didn’t get to keep his angel.”

“No. But you shouldn’t let that worry you, sweetie. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

I know I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep, but as long as I’m alive and able, I will keep her safe. And I’m hoping my promise will ease her mind. Emmy has enough to deal with in her life without worrying about death and what will happen to her mother if she were to die.