Star Promise (25 page)

She didn’t shush them this time, allowing them the simple pleasure of being excited, but then did something that completely and utterly broke my heart.

“Do you like it, Maddy?” she asked, addressing the first little girl in line.

“Yes!” she replied.

Olivia continued down the line, garnering the same response from each girl.

Then it was Bridget’s turn. “I just love it!” she beamed.

“It’s a shame you won’t be wearing one.” Olivia’s tone was confusingly gentle. “You won’t take off the boots.” She pointed at Bridget’s feet. “Ballerinas don’t wear boots.”

My only saving grace was that Bridget’s back was to me. I imagine she looked devastated.

“I love boots,” she defended in a voice smaller than her.

Olivia shook her head. “Not in this class. You need to take them off now, or go home.”

The little girl standing next to her leaned down and spoke. “Just take them off. You won’t be able to go to the concert with them.”

“But I don’t want to,” replied Bridget.

I could only assume she knew that I’d failed her miserably. Not once did she turn around to look at me.

“Last warning, Bridget,” demanded Olivia. “Throw the boots away or get out.”

Her tone was getting rougher and so were her words. Clearly it wasn’t about encouraging Bridget to broaden her horizons. She was making an example of her.

My child stood firm until the very last minute. When she finally made her decision, I watched as she crouched down and pulled off her boots, painfully slowly just to make her point.

“I will throw them away,” she muttered, finally standing up.

Even from a distance, Olivia’s expression was smug. She’d probably anticipated the win. It’s not hard to get one over on a tiny little girl. But what she wouldn’t have been expecting was the unceremonious way that Bridget discarded her boots.

Every girl took a giant step back as both galoshes bounced off the mirrored wall. I expected it to shatter, but fortunately, after a long moment of wobbling, it held.

Olivia looked furious. I couldn’t see Bridget, but could tell by her posture that she wasn’t the least bit penitent.

“You’re very lucky that didn’t break,” she hissed. “I’m sure your daddy wouldn’t be pleased with having to pay for a new mirror.”

“
Tête de guimauve,”
Bridget replied.

When she finally turned around to look for me, I wished she hadn’t. She looked devastated, with good reason. Thanks to the ballet teacher from hell, my daughter was under the impression that I’d just sold her out. I’d promised her she could keep the boots, but that option had been ripped from her, and I’d stood by and let it happen.

I was hurt, angry, and certain that I was the worst mother in the world, excluding my own. I wasn’t up to confronting Olivia. The second she dismissed the class, I grabbed Bridget and left. I didn’t give a damn about my mother. All I cared about was making sure the damage she’d done to my kid wasn’t permanent.

Bridget didn’t say a word as I hurriedly marched her along the sidewalk – even to complain that I was walking too fast.

We rounded the first corner we came to. I pulled her aside and crouched in front of her. “I’m so sorry.” I hugged her hard. “I don’t know what just happened in there but I promise it’ll never happen again.”

“You said I could choose,” she said flatly.

I pulled her in close again and hugged her much too tightly. “I know. I’m sorry,” I mumbled, kissing the top of her head over and over. “I won’t take you there again. You can wear your boots all day long.”

Her voice was muffled against my chest. “No more dancing?” she asked.

I released her from my hold and leaned back to look at her. “No,” I assured her.

“But I threw away my boots!” she growled. “She said I could stay now.”

If I was out of my depth before, I was positively drowning now. I had no clue what to say. “You want to go back?”

“Daddy will take me,” she insisted. “Okay?”

I wasn’t quite sure what I was agreeing to, but one thing was for certain. If Adam had been there to witness Olivia’s treatment of his daughter, there’s no way it would’ve escalated past the first harsh word.

I was the one who was too inept to stand up for her. I was the coward who stood back and watched it play out. And I was the one who’d probably never recover from it.

Stepping out of the elevator to find Bridget sitting outside our front door was a first. She didn’t look worried, so I tried not to be.

“Hi, baby,” I greeted. “You’re on the wrong side of the door.”

“It’s locked,” she said as if it was no big deal.

“Why are you out here? Where’s Mom?”

Bridget gave me the rundown while I fumbled for my key. While Charli’s back was turned, she’d decided to check out life on the other side of the door, managing to lock herself out in the process.

“Now I can’t get back in.” She threw her arms wide, emphasizing how much she’d been inconvenienced.

I wasn’t buying her claim that she’d been sitting there for three days, but anything longer than three seconds was unacceptable. I ushered Bridget inside and began calling Charli’s name before I’d even closed the door.

“I’m here,” she replied, rounding the doorway to the hallway. “What’s the matter?”

I chewed my bottom lip, trying to work out if I was angry or concerned. “Bridget was sitting outside the door when I got home,” I replied. “Where were you?”

“I’m here, Adam,” she muttered, pushing past me. “She could only have been out there for a minute.”

“I was stuck for three days,” Bridget interjected. “I’m very tired and hungry now.”

Both of us ignored her for obvious reasons.

“What’s going on, Charlotte?”

After diverting Bridget’s attention by turning on her mermaid movie, she walked through to the kitchen, grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl and began cutting it up. “We went to dance class,” she replied roughly. “Need I say more?”

The sad truth was that I didn’t want to hear more. I was so tired of hearing the tale of Olivia’s heartless wrongdoings, mainly because of Charli’s frustrating habit of repeatedly forgiving her. I decided not to ask questions and stuck to the more important issue at hand. I pointed at the front door. “Make sure that stays locked from now on,” I muttered. “Anything could’ve happened.”

When faced with the choice of throwing the apple or the knife, my wife loved me enough to throw the apple. It wasn’t a perfect shot. I turned in time to deflect it with my arm.

“You’re an arse,” she growled, pushing past me again. The bedroom door slammed a few seconds later and she was gone.

I sat on the couch with Bridget and suffered through fifteen minutes of mermaid hell while I pondered my next move. In that time, Little Miss Obvious reminded me four times that I was in trouble.

“Yes, I realise that. Thank you.”

“Big trouble,” she taunted, singing the words.

“I know.”

“Huge trouble,” she whispered.

“Bridget Décarie, shut up and eat your apple.”

Charli isn’t a brooder. She began her explanation for the fruit assault the second I opened the bedroom door. “Don’t tell me how to look after my kid,” she ranted. “Even when I get it wrong.”

“Okay.” I put both hands up in surrender. “I won’t.”

“I didn’t get it wrong!” she yelled. “I felt as bullied as Bridget did. It wasn’t my idea to single her out and force her to ditch the bloody boots!”

At the risk of being killed for it, I had to confess that I had no idea what she was talking about. From what I could tell, it had nothing to do with Bridget’s solo excursion into the foyer.

Charli slumped on the edge of the bed. “I don’t even want to tell you about it.”

I sat down beside her. “Would it make me a really bad father if I said I didn’t want to hear about it?”

She let out a quiet laugh. “No.”

“That’s a relief.”

Charli looked across at me. “How was your meeting?”

I tucked her hair behind her ear. “Nothing that couldn’t be handled in an email.”

She nodded. “A crappy day all round then.”

“It’s going to get worse, Coccinelle,” I warned. “We’re due at my parents’ place for dinner.”

I wasn’t exaggerating when I claimed the day would get rougher. Ryan and Bente’s so-called surprise engagement announcement was overshadowed by Charli’s dark mood and my father’s decision to kick her while she was down. The digs started the minute we arrived, and by the time we sat down to dinner, protecting her had become impossible.

Freedom of speech was seriously lacking when Charli was in the king’s company. When she dared to give a La La explanation of why Bente’s engagement ring contained exactly fifty-eight facets, things got ugly. My first reaction was to get Bridget out of the room. I sent her out to find her boots.

It wasn’t honest of Dad to tear shreds off Charli. His real gripe was with my brother, namely his decision to propose to Bente before working out the details of a pre-nup. Charli realised it too, which is probably why she tried to divert the subject by telling her fairy-tale in the first place.

“I’m not listening to this any more,” he snapped.

“Don’t cut her off,” I chided. “Don’t ever do that.”

Dad glared at me. “The minute your wife contributes something worth listening to, I will hear her out.”

I knew the only option I had was to get us out of there. If we stayed, there was no telling how much further civility would slide. I grabbed Charli’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “That’s it,” I declared. “We’re done.”

Bridget came running into the room, waving a boot in each hand. “Help me please, Daddy.”

I crouched and helped her pull them on.

“Stay,” my mother pleaded. “This is supposed to be Ryan and Bente’s evening.”

“It still is, Mom,” I assured her.

“Yes,” said Charli, turning her attention to Bente and Ryan. “Congratulations again. I’m really happy for both of you.”

“So am I,” I agreed. “Just make sure you get that pre-nup wrapped up nice and tight, Ryan.” It was an unnecessary jibe that felt remarkably good, especially when I noticed the pissed off look on Dad’s face. “Bente will have half a chance of being accepted into the fold if there’s no danger of her ripping you off in the divorce.” Even my mother’s gasp of horror wasn’t enough to shut me up. “And if you can make sure she keeps her opinions to herself, that’ll score points too,” I added.

Ryan let me have my moment and said nothing, but my father accused me of being ridiculous. By that point he was probably right, but I ignored his demand to sit back down. Instead, I made my point louder by sticking to my guns and leaving.

Bridget and I milled on the sidewalk like a couple of lost puppies while we waited for Charli to walk out. I was dreading having to go back in there and get her. But like a true team player, she eventually appeared.

“Your father would like me to let you know that he doesn’t appreciate your attitude, monsieur,” she stated, slowly making her way down the front steps.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” I replied, smiling at her.

She stepped off the stoop and linked her arms around my neck. “I kind of like it when you’re naughty,” she teased.

“I can be naughty,” offered Bridget, wedging herself between us. “It’s easy.”

“No one doubts your talent, Bridge.” I put my hand on her head. “Just stick with being nice for now.”

“Let’s go home.” Charli grabbed my hand. “We could walk. It’s a nice night.”

I reached for Bridget with my free hand and looked up at the sky. There wasn’t a cloud in it and the stars were bright. For a short minute I managed to pretend we were somewhere else.

“It’s the same sky, wherever you’re watching from, Adam,” Charli murmured.

I gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “It’s what underneath that counts.” When I cut in front of her path by stepping in front of her, Bridget skipped forward to keep up. “Let’s not go home,” I suggested. “Where do you want to go?”

At that moment, she looked so beautiful that I would’ve taken her to the moon if she’d asked.

“Can we go swimming?” asked Bridget tugging on my hand. “That would be a lovely adventure at night time.”

It was an impossible suggestion at eight o’clock on a Tuesday night, but I was a long time supporter of all things La La. I picked Bridget up and made a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep. “Yes,” I said, tickling her belly. “Let’s do it. A swimming adventure sounds perfect.”

My daughter’s witchy little cackle was the best sound I’d heard all day.

Charli hooked her arm through mine. “How are you going to pull this one off, Boy Wonder?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Winging it again?” she asked.

I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “You can’t fly without wings, Coccinelle.”

Fortunately, a plan came together quickly. Bridget wasn’t happy about heading home, or the notion of waiting in the cab while I ran up to the apartment to get what we needed.

“Just wait with Mommy,” I told her. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Bring Treasure too, please,” she demanded.

I closed the door before she could add anything else to her list of requests and hurried inside. I packed a bag of clothes, threw in the ghastly Treasure and made a few necessary phone calls. I returned to the waiting cab feeling slightly more confident of pulling off the adventure Bridget was seeking.

“The Castlereagh Hotel, please,” I instructed the driver.

“A hotel pool?” asked Charli.

Bridget clambered onto my lap. I sat her back down on her seat and buckled her seat belt. “Wait and see,” I said vaguely.

Charli turned her head, smiling out the window. “Far from what we once were, but not yet who we’re going to be,” she mumbled.

I slipped my arm behind Bridget to run my hand through her mama’s hair. “What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means we’re going swimming!” Bridget’s shrill squeal made the driver wince. “For all of the night time.”

I was hopeful that she wouldn’t last that long. I had big plans for her mother.