Tomorrow's Sun (37 page)

No more concerns about the housing market. No more moving to a town and trying to figure out how to live in it without becoming part of it. The most obvious “no more” she’d have to deal with soon. But not until she had a guarantee in writing from her future employer whose name she didn’t yet know. “E-mail all the info.” She crossed her legs and a sudden familiar spasm grabbed just below and to the left of L4. She stood, stepped behind the chair, and pushed down on the top of the chair back with both hands. Emergency decompression. “Do you know the ages of the kids?”

“Yeah. Cute kids. She has a whole wall of black-and-whites of them at the gallery. They’re on her website. She planned them exactly two years apart. Can you believe it? They were all born in the business lull right after Christmas. How’s that for planning?”

“How old are they?”

“Oh yeah. The girl is five. One boy is three, the other’s a year and a half.”

A year and a half. Born right after Christmas. They could have been in the hospital at the same time. Straightening her arms elongated her spine. The spasm weakened along with her resolve. Flipping a house on her own—wielding a sledgehammer and carrying eight-foot slabs of Sheetrock—might be easier than pretending to parent someone else’s children. Eighteen-month-old children needed to be picked up. And read to. And rocked. And snuggled. Massaging her low back, she slid back onto the chair. “Send me the info.”

But not a picture.

T
here’s a new twist, Jake.” Wayne Luther leaned against Emily’s new countertop and pulled an envelope from the pocket of his sports jacket.

Jake’s gut tightened. “What do you mean?”

“Ben started adoption proceedings before Abby died.”

Steel bands wrapped around his skull. He took the paper. “If it wasn’t final—”

“It could still work in his favor. Shows he was serious about being their dad, that he cared about securing their future.”

Jake slammed his fist on the counter. “It shows he knew Abby might not make it and he wanted to secure the money!” He ran a paint-spotted hand over his mouth. “I don’t need to be taking this out on you. You know how grateful I am for your help.”

“Forget it. Kids still aren’t talking?”

“I’m not asking. They’ve been poked and prodded like voodoo dolls. Family’s supposed to be their safe place.” Jake opened the fridge and handed Wayne a soda. “Don’t we have enough evidence that the guy’s a psycho?”

“Not necessarily. Every parent has bad days.”

“He shot a cat!”

“With a toy gun.”

“Come on.”

Wayne popped open the can and took a drink. “Without the kids’ testimony, it may not be enough.”

“This wasn’t the first time the neighbor called the cops.”

“All Madsen’s been cited with in the past is disturbing the peace. He hasn’t caused bruises or broken any bones.”

“Nothing we have proof of. “Jake walked to the window, banged it with the heel of his hand, and shoved it open. Even with the front and back doors wide open, the kitchen was stifling. “I’ve seen bruises. It makes me sick to think what the slimeball threatened them with.”

“Have you told them you’re fighting for permanent guardianship?”

“No. I don’t want to get their hopes up.”

“Might loosen their tongues. Like you said, you’re the safe place. They may feel more like talking if they know there’s a plan.”

“And what if the plan fails?”

Wayne ran a hand through short gelled hair. “I know. I’ve got kids. But you may have to risk disappointing them to make this happen.”

A fat cardinal landed on a branch of the broken oak tree. Jake stared at the gash where the limb had ripped. The tender inner wood was no longer pink. “Maybe.”

“Hey, I have to get home. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.” Wayne wrapped him in a quick hug. “Take care of yourself through all this. You doing anything for fun?”

Jake shrugged. “Trying my hardest to go out on a date.”

Wayne’s eyebrow rose. “Anyone I know?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, let me know how it goes. A wife could definitely help your situation.” Wayne laughed and waved. As he walked out the back door, something fell in the dining room with an echoing
thunk
followed by an even more sickening splash. A paint can. Spitting out a word he no longer used, Jake whipped around.

In time to see Lexi running out the front door.

He didn’t see her. He couldn’t have. Lexi stopped before she reached the corner and turned around. If Jake had seen her, he’d be screaming for her to get back and clean up the mess. She ran through backyards until she reached the pup tent she’d been living in since Emily moved in. It wasn’t a foot away from the basement window anymore. She’d moved it to the middle of the yard the morning after Naomi stayed over.

Their mission had succeeded. Emily had read the letters and just this morning Lexi heard her talking to Grandma Blaze about going to a hotel. Probably couldn’t stand being in the same room with the love letters. At this very moment, she and Grandma Blaze were trying out a new cookie recipe for Emily to take to the hotel. That was the reason Lexi had run to Emily’s house in the first place—to tell Jake how awful Emily’s toffee bars were. The bars were awesome, but Jake didn’t have to know that. It was just one more step in a plan that was working. In the nick of time, apparently.

She unzipped the tent flap and crawled in. It was so hot she could hardly breathe, but it was a good place to hide and think over everything she’d just heard. Putting in her earbuds, she listened to Jesse McCartney singing “Body Language,” a song Jake said she shouldn’t listen to. Maybe that was why the music didn’t calm her the way it usually did. She stretched out on her sleeping bag. In spite of the heat, it felt damp and clammy. Or maybe it was her skin. She got that way sometimes when she was scared or excited.

Right now she was both. Jake was trying to get guardianship! She hadn’t even told him her dream and he was making it happen. Unless “you” meant Jake and Grandma. But then the other part, the part that scared her, wouldn’t make sense.
“A wife could help your situation.”
Did that mean Jake was interested in Emily just because if he was married, or looked like he was going to get married, the social workers or judge or whoever decides those things would be more likely to let her and Adam live with him?

So maybe he didn’t really like Emily after all. Maybe he just needed a woman, any woman, to agree to marry him. She thought of something Naomi had said about wishing her mom and Jake would fall in love and get married and then they could be sisters. Mrs. Benner wasn’t Jake’s type, but if he was desperate to find someone, he might consider her. She was an awesome cook. Her house was always superclean. And she was funny, too. One time she got glasses with fake noses for herself and Naomi and Lexi, and they drove around Burlington wearing them and watching people’s faces. Jake needed somebody to make him laugh.

And it sure wasn’t going to be Emily. Not if she could help it.

Her fingers fumbled with the zipper. She had to talk to Naomi. Fast. Sweat beading on her face, she popped out of the tent.

And came face-to-face with Jake.

“What did you hear?”

Jake sat in a lawn chair drinking a no-longer-cold soda. He’d waited in silence, planning his questions, rehearsing a lecture. What was it about the red-faced girl with hair the color of her mother’s that made him forget it all? He pointed to the empty chair across from him and Lexi sat down. He waited for her to answer.

She played with the fringe around a hole near the hem of her shorts. “I’m sorry I spilled the paint. I just turned around and—”

“It all went on the drop cloth.”

Finally she looked up, sunlight sparkling on unshed tears. “You’re trying to get permanent guardianship.”

Jake nodded.

“Just you, or you and Grandma?”

“Just me. You know Grandma would love to have you.”

“But it would be hard on her. I know.”

“I haven’t told you guys because I didn’t want you to get your hopes up. We don’t know how things will turn out.”

“What if we just say we want to live with you and not Ben? Won’t they listen to us?” A tear spilled from each eye and rolled slowly down freckled cheeks. Lexi swiped them away.

“They might. It sure won’t hurt. But you’re not quite old enough to appoint your own guardian.”

“How old would we have to be?”

“Fourteen.”

“What if Ben gets us and adopts us before that?”

“What they will listen to is you and Adam telling the truth about anything bad Ben has done to you. Any time he’s hurt either one of you or said things to make you feel bad about yourself.” He crumpled the empty can and tossed it. “You need to start being honest, Lex.”

“But what if he says bad things about you? What if we tell things about him, and then he tells things about you, and the court decides we can’t be either place and splits us up and puts us in different foster homes?” Her face crumpled. Tears poured.

Jake’s hands seized into fists. What kind of garbage was Ben filling their minds with? “Lex, there’s nothing he can say—”

“He knows things about you. What if he tells the judge that you got tickets for drunk driving or that you used to be Goth and you took drugs and got in a car accident?”

Closing his eyes, Jake breathed away fear. He’d had two DUIs before he was twenty. The car accident wasn’t his fault, though they’d both been drinking, and he’d smoked pot his first year in college then came to his senses and hadn’t touched it since. Old stuff. None of it would affect his chances—unless Ben had a lawyer who tried to make his past an issue. What scared him was knowing that Ben wasn’t as passive as he’d assumed. “Lex…” He tried to steady his voice, but it didn’t work. “All of that happened years ago. I was young and stupid. No judge is going to take that into consideration.”

“But it’s all true, isn’t it?”

Staring over her head at the little green tent, he sighed. “Yes. It’s all true.”

Jake stood on the second rung of the ladder in Emily’s new master bath, twisting wires and sorting through all Lexi had said. And not said.