Together With You (2 page)

Children this age were typically shy and suspicious of strangers, so she snagged a lion off the endcap, ambled to the girl's side, and crouched down. Using the stuffed animal as a puppet, she spoke in her growliest voice. “
Grrr
. I'm Lance the Lion. Who are you?”

The child broke into a smile. “I'm Penny. I have a dollar, and I'm going to buy a rabbit.”

“Excellent,” Lance declared with a shake of his tawny mane. “I'll lead you to the cash register.”

“Okay, but I have to pick which one.” Penny turned back to the bin and resumed her hunt for just the right rabbit.

Every second was an eternity for a worried parent, but Carly didn't want to frighten the child by rushing her. There was something oddly intense about the pinch of her eyebrows, the careful
way she inspected each rabbit before hurling it to the floor. With a BA in biology, a masters in social work, plus a year of PhD work at UCLA, Carly knew kids. Something about Penny's expression struck her as atypical.

Hoping to nudge the girl along, she picked up a brown rabbit with a white tummy and black button eyes. Wiggling the rabbit's head, she made her voice squeak. “I'm Tiffany Rabbit, and I need a home.”

Penny's blue eyes lit up. “Me too.”

“You do?” Tiffany asked.

“I do,” Penny repeated. “My mommy's not here.”

The poor woman had to be worried sick. Using Lance again, Carly spoke in his voice but with more authority. “Come with me, Miss Penny. I'll help you find her.”

“She's in heaven.”

No . . . No . . . Not this
sweet child.
An old wound split open, and Carly swallowed a familiar lump of grief. She'd been fourteen when her mother died of a fast-moving cancer, leaving her to be raised by her father and older brother and sister. The gold locket hidden under her red polo shirt, warm from her skin and memories, had belonged to her mother and was Carly's most treasured possession. She made Lance dip his head in a kind of prayer. “I'm sad for you, Miss Penny.”

Penny nodded solemnly. “I'm sad, too.”

“Do you have a daddy?” Lance asked.

“Sort of.” Penny heaved a very adult sigh. “Mostly I have nannies. Dr. Tremaine—he's my daddy—he works all the time. Kyle is nice, but I
hate
Eric. He took me to the arcade, and I
hate
the arcade. It smells bad.” Her lower lip popped out, stiffened, and trembled with the threat of tears.

Tiffany Rabbit hippety-hopped to the rescue. “I need a mommy, too. Can I come home with you?”

Penny raised her skinny little arm and patted Tiffany on the head. “I want this one.”

Tiffany turned to Carly, who looked at Lance, who did another puppet shake of his mane while speaking to Carly. “We
both
want to go home with Miss Penny. Is that okay?”

Carly finally used her own voice. “I think we can work something out.” She had already decided to buy both animals for Penny, who probably didn't understand the price tags. Every dollar counted for Carly, but she could live on Cup O' Noodles a few extra days. Aware of the Code Adam and the ten-minute limit, she tucked Lance under her arm and reached for Penny's hand. “Let's go pay.”

Penny took Carly's fingers as if they were already best friends, and they walked together to the counter where Carly made the call to Security.

“Keep her there,” the operator said. “Her father's on his way.”

Good,
Carly thought. She wanted a word with the man about his daughter. She understood a child getting lost in a mall. It happened. They were little human beings with minds and feet of their own. But Penny's instant attachment indicated a dangerous lack of healthy suspicion. If Carly could win her trust with a stuffed animal, so could a predator. Penny needed to be taught to protect herself, especially with her mom in heaven.

Carly paid for the toys with her employee discount, then handed Tiffany Rabbit to Penny, who told the rabbit she'd get to sleep in Penny's bed tonight along with a bunch of other stuffed friends. Carly joined in the conversation with Lance, who did lots of growling while they waited for Penny's dad—the man she called Dr. Tremaine. The more Carly thought about the circumstances, the more she worried.

“Penny!”

A deep voice shot through the store. Turning, Carly spotted a tall man with close-cropped dark hair, narrowed eyes, and a lanky build striding toward the cash register. Presumably this was Dr. Tremaine. Dressed in khakis and a navy polo shirt, he dodged children and parents with the agility of an athlete. She supposed
he was handsome, even striking, but his steely gaze lacked warmth of any kind.

Carly laid a protective hand on Penny's shoulder. “Your daddy's here.”

The child looked at her father, her expression blank as she lifted Tiffany Rabbit and made her talk. “Hi, Dr. Tremaine,” she said in a squeaky voice. “I'm Tiffany Rabbit, and I'm going home with Penny. Lance is coming, too.”

The man stared at the rabbit, speechless. He clearly didn't know how to play with a child, and Penny plainly needed someone who did. When his gaze shot to Carly's face, his blue eyes collided with her brown ones the way an empty sky touches flat brown earth. Fear glittered in his irises, but so did arrogance. Carly didn't like that cold glare, not one bit. Penny needed a daddy, not this man who oozed tension, maybe anger.

Determined to make her point, she raised Lance and gave an enthusiastic growl. “
Grrr
. I'm Lance the Lion. Nice to meet you, Dr. Tremaine.”

R
yan owed this woman a huge debt of gratitude, but the talking lion irritated him. So did the sparkle in her big brown eyes. Something about the situation seemed to amuse her, or maybe she was one of those annoying women who made lemonade out of life's lemons by adding too much sugar. After the trauma of the past ten minutes, her playfulness grated like fingernails on a chalkboard. So did her long blond hair and the red polo shirt sporting the store logo of a toothy lion. He guessed her to be in her midtwenties—too old to be working in the mall with teenagers, perhaps a sign she'd failed Adulthood 101. All that aside, he was bone-deep grateful that she had found Penny.

With his throat still tight, he clipped his words in an effort to appear steadier than he was. “Thank you for finding my daughter.”

The woman studied him for a moment, her gaze now serious. “I'm glad I could help. I'm Carly Mason, the assistant manager. If you have a minute, I'd like to tell you about how I found her. Frankly, I'm a little worried.”

Here we go again. Another ignorant
do-gooder with advice about a situation she doesn't
understand.
On the outside, Penny
seemed like an ordinary child. She was classified as having Fetal Alcohol Effects, not full-blown Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, so her disabilities didn't always show, even to someone with a trained eye. A psychologist, Miss Monica, was helping her cope with both the FASD and her mother's passing, and Ryan valued that woman's training. He didn't want Carly Mason's unschooled advice, but he did want to know what had happened. “I want to hear everything, but not in front of . . .” He indicated Penny with his chin.

“Of course.”

With the stuffed lion in hand, Carly dropped to a crouch and spoke to Penny in the lion's gravelly voice. “I want to play with Tiffany Rabbit. Let's go to the play pit.”

“No.” Penny's face pinched, her lower lip trembling as her chest heaved with the opening salvo of a tantrum.

Here we go again.
If Ryan didn't control the situation, Penny would. Using a signal he'd worked on with Miss Monica, one that would get her attention without increasing the volume level, he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“No,” she cried, shaking off the touch.

He couldn't let Penny win this battle, but her will was as strong as his own and often stronger.

“Dad!”

Ryan turned and saw Kyle racing toward the counter with Eric and Officer Lewis behind him. At the earlier call from the dispatcher, Ryan had bolted ahead of them. Penny loved Kyle. Maybe she'd go with him without a fuss. Before Ryan could ask Kyle for a favor, Officer Lewis propped his hands on his hips and grinned at the woman named Carly. “So you found Penny. I should have guessed she'd be here.”

“We're a popular spot.” Carly set the lion on the counter, then spoke to Penny in her regular voice. “We've been playing with the animals, haven't we?”

Happily the center of attention, Penny held up the rabbit for everyone to admire. “This is Tiffany.”

Officer Lewis gave a satisfied nod. “My job's done except for the incident at the arcade.”

With Penny safe, Ryan focused on Eric. The candy bars bulged in one of the deep pockets of his cargo shorts, evidence of confusion rather than a crime, but the matter needed to be addressed. Ryan glanced at Officer Lewis. “I'm sorry for what happened. We'll go back to the arcade to apologize and pay.”

Eric's cheeks flushed red beneath his pale skin, the result of too much time in front of a computer screen and a vampire-like preference for the night. “I didn't mean to take them. Penny ran off, and I got scared.”

Officer Lewis crossed his arms over his chest. “I believe you, but you still have to pay for the candy.”

“He will,” Ryan replied.

“I'll let the manager know to expect you.” Satisfied, Officer Lewis gave a relaxed wave and left.

Ryan turned to Eric and saw a stony expression he knew too well. Of his three children, Eric was the biggest mystery to him. They had no common interests, a fact evidenced by the SOS list. Ryan had jotted down several ideas, things like
Eat dinner together once a week, Go for ice cream,
and
Have breakfast at Minnie's Pancake House,
a place the boys used to love. He'd also listed things to do with them individually. Between
Go to Kyle's baseball games
and
Swim lessons for Penny,
he'd written
Eric—?

Juggling the needs of his three children was the hardest thing Ryan had ever attempted. When the boys were little, he'd been in med school and working to be first in his class, then interning at USC and working even harder to be the best. He missed out on their formative years without realizing those years would have also formed him as a father. Dealing with teenage problems when he was absent for the daily trials of a toddler left him handicapped—
and divorced. Heather was right. He'd neglected their marriage in favor of his career, but that career, along with a healthy inheritance from his father, provided handsomely for his family. Surely that counted for something.

With the shoplifting incident resolved, Ryan turned to his sons. “I need a few minutes with Carly. Eric, you can look around but stay where I can see you.”

Eric glowered but headed for a barrel of rubber sharks at the end of the glass counter.

Ryan turned to Kyle. “Stay with Penny, all right?”

“Sure.” He shifted the bag holding the baseball shoes to his other hand. “How about if I take her to pick out another rabbit?”

“Or an outfit for this one,” Carly suggested.

“Good idea.” Ryan wished he'd thought of clothes for the rabbit, but that's what happened with Penny. He was so focused on the problems that he forgot to be an ordinary dad.

Kyle reached for Penny's hand. “Come on, Squirrel. Dad said to buy the rabbit some clothes.”

It was just like Kyle to have a special name for his sister, and to share the credit for a good idea. He was generous in that way, maybe because he had success to spare. A solid student and natural athlete, he wanted to go to Stanford for premed. Twenty years ago, Ryan had been just like Kyle—assured, optimistic, and ready to take on the world. Now he was empty inside, tired of the fight, and afraid that someday Kyle would be just like him. It didn't help that Kyle had inherited Ryan's dark hair and lanky build. When Ryan looked at his son, he saw an untarnished version of himself, which reminded him just how tarnished he'd become.

He wanted a cigarette. Badly.

And a drink.

But he wouldn't.

Fighting a scowl, he waited while Carly summoned a clerk to take over the register, and then followed her to a couple of chairs
on the far side of a play area designed for toddlers. The stuffed chairs were at a ninety-degree angle to each other and offered a view of Eric at the counter and Kyle and Penny at the end of an aisle.

“This is the dad spot,” she said lightly. “Have a seat.”

“Why the dad spot?”

“Moms never sit down.” She sank into the cushions and crossed her legs. “When it comes to dressing up stuffed animals, fathers tend to watch.”

Ryan said nothing.

“Don't get me wrong,” she said with a flutter of one hand. “The dads aren't neglectful. If something happens, they move fast, like you did when you hurried into the store. Losing Penny had to be terrifying.”

He gave her high marks for diplomacy but braced for the inevitable criticism. “It shouldn't have happened.”

“Of course not. But even the best parents make mistakes. As my dad says, ‘Learn and move on.'” Settling back, she laced her fingers over one knee. “That's why I wanted to talk to you. Winning Penny's trust was extremely easy. A predator could have—”

“I know.”

“It's important she learn—”

“Believe me, I understand the situation.” He didn't need this lecture, and he saw no reason to explain that Penny suffered from FASD. It was like confessing to child abuse, which was how he saw drinking during pregnancy. Penny was completely unexpected and a terrifying surprise considering they had used birth control.

Ryan shoved to his feet. “Thank you again. But as you heard, I need to take Eric back to the arcade.”

She stood with him. “I don't mean to push, but I see at-risk kids every day. How old is Penny? Around four?”

“Five, almost six. She's small for her age.”

“That makes her even more vulnerable. Kids are impulsive. They have to learn, and it's our job to teach them. We have to . . .”

Blah. Blah. Blah.
Ryan admired her passion, but speeches couldn't change the harsh realities of life. Maybe they could for Carly. After all, she worked in a toy store with talking stuffed animals. But Ryan didn't share her naiveté.

The instant she paused, he drove in a wedge. “Let me assure you, I understand the situation better than anyone.”

He must have been glowering at her, because she drew back from him, her expression a bit haughty.

Ryan was done with her and done with the store. He lived in the real world, not a land of make-believe, and he still had to take Eric to the arcade. Kyle's baseball practice started in two hours, the younger kids needed dinner, and someone had to do laundry before they all ran out of underwear. Then there was the matter of hiring a new nanny. With a little luck, the agency would find the perfect person and schedule an interview for Monday.

He summoned Kyle with a look, then gave Carly a curt nod. She meant well even if she was naïve. “Thank you again. If you'll excuse me—”

“Of course.”

Kyle said something to Penny. When she shook her head, he tried again, this time attempting to steer her away from the clothes with a hand flat on her back.

“No,” Penny shouted. “Tiffany wants a ballet outfit!”

Braced for a meltdown, Ryan strode in her direction. He could carry Penny kicking and screaming through the store, but what did he do then? He still had to take Eric to the arcade. The best approach was to avert a disaster by speaking to Penny in calm, simple sentences. His long strides ate up the distance but not fast enough for him to stop Penny from flinging rabbit clothes all over the floor.

Kyle held out his hands, palms up in a sign of helpless surrender.

“I've got her,” Ryan told him. “Wait with your brother.” Embarrassment crept up his neck like a spreading rash. After a tug
on his collar, he laid a firm but gentle hand on Penny's shoulder. “Pick one outfit.”

She ignored him.

“Pick one outfit,” he repeated. One command at a time, he reminded himself. Too much information overwhelmed her.

Penny dropped a yellow tutu on the floor, then tossed a pink one. The clothes piled into a disjointed rainbow that matched the chaos in her mind.

Behind him, Carly murmured, “May I try?”

With Penny about to erupt, there was nothing to lose. Besides, they were in Carly's store, and she had a knack for making lions talk and children listen. “Go for it.”

Bending at the waist, she placed her hands on her knees and her face parallel to Penny's. “So Tiffany likes to dance?”

Lips in a pout, Penny nodded.

“Does she like purple?”

When Penny nodded again, Carly fingered through the outfits on a higher rack and selected a froth of purple tulle and hot pink sequins. Penny snatched it with her usual lack of manners. “I want to play rabbits with you.”

“We can't.”

No explanation followed. No apologies. There was only the simple command Penny could understand. Ryan's opinion of Carly Mason rose a notch. Hopeful Penny would obey, he clasped her shoulder. “We're leaving now.”

Whirling, she flung herself against Carly's legs with the force of a bowling ball. When Carly stumbled back, Ryan grasped her arm, but momentum slammed her against his chest. With the vanilla scent of her hair filling his nose, she turned and they traded a dazed look. Ryan couldn't help but notice her soft curves. It was a knee-jerk reaction, purely physical, but the awareness nearly caught his hair on fire. Carly's cheeks flushed pink, a sign she was as aware of him as he was of her.

He released his grip but kept his eyes on her face. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine.” Her voice wobbled, and she seemed as stunned as he was, either from the near fall or his touch.

Dismissing the moment as nature at work, Ryan trained his gaze on Penny, still clinging to Carly's leg and demanding to play with her. Her voice rose in both volume and pitch, telling the world she was overwhelmed, not in words but in the unbridled emotion of a coming meltdown. Penny was a mess. His
life
was a mess, and it showed.

Teeth clenched, he picked up his daughter, held her tight against his chest, and used one hand to cup her head against his shoulder. If he shielded her from the noise and glaring lights, maybe she'd settle down. Instead, she howled like a banshee, reared back, and kicked so hard he nearly buckled over.

What made him think he could raise a little girl he didn't understand? Six months ago, he'd been given a choice when Denise Caldwell—Jenna's older sister and Penny's Aunt DeeDee—offered to take custody. Ryan had refused. Penny was his flesh and blood, and he owed her the best life he could provide. But at times like this, with her screams knife-like in his ear, he felt as bereft and alone as Penny.

“I want to stay here,” she yelled.
“I want to play
with the rabbits.”

There was no point in trying to reason with her. Once she lost control, she didn't have the ability to regain it. “I'm sorry,” he said to Carly over Penny's wailing. “I'll get her out of here.”

“No.” Carly pointed to a curtained doorway on the back wall. “Let's go to the break room. She needs less stimulation, not more.”