Read Together With You Online

Authors: Victoria Bylin

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC027020, #FIC027000

Together With You (22 page)

BOOK: Together With You
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Aunt DeeDee's eyebrows scrunched together like worms. “I don't think the beach is a good idea, honey.”

“But I went with Carly. I chased the birds, and we went in the water.”

Aunt DeeDee's mouth fell open. Penny saw even more of her teeth, even a big one in the back with gold all over it.

“You went
in the water
?”

Penny nodded and it wasn't a lie. The white foam had touched just her toes, but in her mind she ran into the waves and turned into a mermaid. “The waves were big, and I swam in them. Carly came with me, and we went far.”

“You
swam
in the ocean?”

Penny nodded. “Carly made me wear my life vest to be extra safe.”

“But—but—”

Aunt DeeDee sounded like she was choking on her spit. Penny hated when that happened. “Carly says I swim like a fish. It was fun.”

Aunt DeeDee scooted her chair close, cupped Penny's face in her cool hands, and leaned close. “Honey, this is
very
important.”

“Okay.” She knew what important meant.

“How far did you go in the waves?”

“Far.”

“Did you get all wet? Even your hair?” Aunt DeeDee squeezed Penny's cheeks so hard that Penny's mouth turned into what Eric called a “fish face.” He made her laugh when he did it in the pool, but she wasn't a fish. She was a mermaid, and she lived in a sand castle under the water. “We went all the way in the ocean.” She wasn't sure what Aunt DeeDee wanted to hear, so she told the best story she could.

“Oh, Penny.”

“I went underwater.”

Aunt DeeDee cried out like she'd stubbed her toe; then she snatched Penny's hand and they went to the counter where Aunt DeeDee kept her phone. “How would you like to watch a movie while I make a call?”

“All right.”

“You pick.”

“Do you have
Little Mermaid
?”

Air blew out of Aunt DeeDee's nose, and her eyes turned into slits. “I do, but you should pick something else.”

Penny stuck her lower lip out. “I want to be Ariel.”

Aunt DeeDee hugged her again. “I guess it's all right.”

She put in the movie and brought Penny a cherry popsicle. The movie started, and in Penny's mind, she was back at the beach with Carly. She didn't know who Aunt DeeDee called, but Aunt DeeDee told the person about Penny going to the beach with Carly. She sounded worried and scared, especially when she hissed that a home visit couldn't wait until next week.

“This child could be in danger,” she said.

Penny's ears perked up, but then Ariel swam onto the screen,
and Penny didn't hear anything else until Aunt DeeDee came to sit with her. They watched the movie together until Penny lost interest.

Aunt DeeDee hugged her for the millionth time. “I'm going to take good care of you, Penny. Always. It's what your mother would want.”

“How do you know?”

Aunt DeeDee swallowed hard. “I just do, honey.”

Maybe Aunt DeeDee knew how to get to heaven in the clouds. She'd been the one to take her mommy in the boat. Penny pushed back from her. “Do you talk to my mommy?”

“Sometimes.”

“Can she hear you?”

“I-I think so.”

Penny wanted to ask Aunt DeeDee how a person visited heaven and if a boat could take her there, but an extra loud airplane made her cover her ears. Like Carly said, Penny's brain was too full to think anymore, and her heart was so full it hurt. With tears spilling down her cheeks, she slipped into a world where no one else could go.

23

W
hen a person cared for a child with fetal alcohol, some days were harder than others. A few days were so impossible even a saint pulled her hair out. Carly was no saint, and Penny had been particularly difficult since returning two days ago from her overnight stay with Denise.

A minute ago, as Carly was hauling paint cans down the hall, Penny informed her, in a particularly entitled tone, that she didn't have to listen to Carly anymore, because Aunt DeeDee said Penny was a little princess, and she let Penny do whatever she wanted.

Carly's blood was boiling as she veered into Penny's room. This was precisely the sort of conflict she had sought to avoid when she spoke to Denise and ended up in that awful conversation with Ryan. They had barely said a word to each other since that night, and Carly didn't know whether to be hurt, angry, or relieved. She needed to talk to him about Penny's behavior, but that meant bringing up Denise. Unwilling to dredge up the conversation at the restaurant, Carly had been handling Penny herself.

“We have rules here,” Carly said to Penny as she stepped into the room. “You know that.”

Penny sashayed behind her. “I don't care about rules.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I don't.” For good measure, she tossed in a twirl and curtsied.

Carly set the paint cans down on the tarp she'd laid out earlier, then crouched in front of Penny. “We have rules here,” she repeated.

Penny twirled again, spinning with her arms wide until she stumbled into a paint can. It tipped and the lid fell off. Gray paint spread across the tarp like polluted water.

Mercifully the can was only a quarter full. Carly righted it quickly, then gripped Penny's arm. “That's enough.”

When Penny tried to spin again, Carly grasped her shoulders. “Penny. Stop.”

“No!”

“I said
STOP
.”

Penny, her face knotted, stomped in the puddle of paint. Gray droplets spattered Carly's face. Gasping, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve, tasted rancid paint, and tried to work up some spit.

Penny saw her contorted face and laughed.

Fighting a helpless shriek, Carly hunched forward with her hands knotted at her chest. Her mind tumbled into a black hole. Nothing about this moment was funny. Not the spilled paint or Penny's show of temper. Not Carly's undeniable feelings for Ryan and Denise's meddling in their lives. It hurt. Every bit of it. And there wasn't a thing she could do to change the circumstances.

She sucked in a lungful of air and raised her face back to Penny, still spinning in her paint-covered socks. Carly pulled her down to her lap, tugged off the socks, and called through the open door. “Kyle? Eric? I need some help.”

“On my way!” Kyle yelled.

He said something to Eric as he came down the hall, saw the mess on Penny's floor, and made a face. Before Carly said a word,
he held out his hand to Penny. “Come on, Squirrel. Let's build something with Legos.”

“A castle?” Penny asked.

“Whatever you want.”

Carly mouthed a silent
thank you
to Kyle. With Penny in hand, he led the way downstairs to the family room.

Sometimes life was just too much. Her anger slid into a murky pool that had grown deeper and wider all week. Filled with the steady drip-drip of her ambivalent feelings for Ryan, that pool became a lake as murky as the spilled paint. She cleaned up the mess from Penny's tantrum, dipped a brush in another can holding a darker shade of gray, and swiped it across the flat bottom of a storm cloud.

In her mind she heard rain hammering her father's roof, saw black clouds and feathery wisps, the turmoil in the Kentucky sky. Like her mother used to say,
“If you don
't like the weather in Kentucky, wait ten minutes and it'll change.”

Carly wished her feelings for Ryan were as transient, but they were more like the sky above the clouds—unchanging, bright, and true blue. This wasn't a schoolgirl crush. She loved him. Stupid or not, she had lost her heart to a worldly man who didn't understand her at all, lived in Los Angeles, and preferred “for now” to “forever.”

Could he really love her if he didn't understand the most basic part of her character? Not that he loved her. She was sure he didn't.

Because he couldn't.

But what if he did?

She'd seen his expression when he realized how serious she was about marriage and her own sexuality. Surprise had morphed into fascination, then desire evident in a look that seared her skin. Every cell in her body had leapt to life, and she felt that leaping now.

“Carly!” Kyle's voice shot up the stairs.

Surrendering to a groan, she hurried to the kitchen where Kyle was at the sink running water and Penny was . . .
painting the
wall
? Gasping, Carly took in smears of ketchup and mustard as high as Penny could reach. Her hands were covered with the red and yellow slime, and she'd gotten it on her face and in her hair.

Carly grabbed Penny's hand to stop the damage. “
What
did you do?”

Her bottom lip poked out. “I'm painting—like you!”

“This isn't painting,” Carly ground out. “It's a
mess
.”

Kyle squeezed water out of a sponge. “I went to get the Legos but couldn't find them right away. When I came out—” he indicated the wall with a disparaging nod. “That's what she was doing.”

Carly glared at the mess. Next to her, Penny whimpered, “My hands are icky.”

“Kyle, hand me a paper towel—”

“We're out.” He headed to the laundry room for a fresh roll.

“Get it off me!”
Penny shrieked.
“Get it off me now!”

A meltdown was coming. If Denise had walked into the room at that moment, Carly would have given her an earful. They all suffered when she spoiled Penny, with Penny suffering the most. Shaking with fury, Carly gripped Penny's slick hands and crouched. “What's the rule about the refrigerator?”

Penny's bottom lip trembled. “I-I don't know.”

“You're not allowed to open it.”

“But Aunt DeeDee said—”

“Your daddy makes the rules here.” Carly paused to let the words sink in, then repeated them. “Your daddy makes the rules. In this house, you are
not
allowed to open the refrigerator.”

When tears flooded Penny's eyes, Carly let go of one of her hands and pulled a tissue out of her pocket. Before she could wipe Penny's face, Penny rubbed her eye with her mustard-covered fingers.

“Penny. No!” But it was too late. The mustard got in her eye and started to sting.

“It hurts!” Screaming, Penny stomped her feet so hard the floor shook.

Carly swung her up into her arms and raced to the kitchen sink.

Kyle came back with paper towels. “Do you need me, because if you don't—”

“Go,” she said over Penny's shrieks. “I'll handle it from here.”

He took off like a cat on fire. Carly cranked the water back on and made it lukewarm. As she stuck Penny's hand under the stream, the doorbell rang. No one ever dropped in on the Tremaines, not even Taylor or Eric's friends. It had to be the UPS man or FedEx. Ryan hadn't mentioned a delivery, but they weren't speaking, so how would she know?

“Kyle?” she shouted. “Could you get that?”

He called back yes, leaving Carly to wrestle with Penny. The child's tears had washed away most of the mustard, but she was in a full-blown panic. With one hand firm on Penny's shoulder, Carly used her own hand to squeegee the mess off Penny's cheeks. If her eyes were at all irritated, she'd rush Penny to Ryan's office.

“It hurts!” Penny cried again. “Make it stop!”

Kyle walked back into the kitchen. “Uh, Carly?”

“What is it?”

When he didn't answer, she looked up and saw a pinched expression on his lean face. “There's someone here for Dad.”

“Who is it?”

He held out a cheap white business card. “I don't know, but she's from the Department of Family and Child Services.”

“She's from
where?

Kyle repeated himself in the exact same tone, much like Carly spoke to Penny.

Her vision tunneled into a black hole. This woman was here to investigate an allegation of some sort, but who would call? Then it hit her. There was only one person in the world who doubted Ryan's ability to care for Penny, and that was Denise. How dare she call Social Services! No matter what misunderstanding had led to the report, Ryan deserved the respect of a direct confrontation.

Clutching Penny with one hand, Carly pinched the card with her stained fingers and read,
Louanne Stuart, LCSW, Dept. of Family and
Child Services.

Penny shrieked again, her anguish echoing off the walls
. “It hurts! Make it stop! It hurts!”

Carly knew what Louanne Stuart was hearing and thinking. If the social worker had a lick of sense, Carly and Ryan had nothing to fear. On the other hand, if she was young, inexperienced, and determined to save the world, or perhaps overly cautious, Ryan would be in for the fight of his life.

With her hand shaking, she returned the card to Kyle. “Did you invite her in?”

“Not yet.”

“Do it, then call your dad. If he's with a patient, tell Fran to interrupt. This is an emergency.”

Ryan finished with the last patient of the morning and stepped into the hallway. As he headed to his office, Fran waved frantically from the front desk. “Kyle's on line two. He says Carly needs you.”

A thousand awful pictures flashed in Ryan's mind—Penny missing again, a car accident, Carly and his kids injured and headed to the ER. Inwardly cringing but outwardly calm, he snatched up the phone in an empty exam room. “Kyle?”

“There's a lady from the county here. She's some sort of social worker.”

“She's
what?”

“A social worker. Carly said to tell you it's an emergency.”

“I'm on my way. I'll call you back from the car.”

Ryan slammed down the phone, told Fran to cancel his afternoon, then jogged to his car without bothering to snag his suit coat. At the first red light, he called Kyle and learned the details about the mustard fiasco, Penny's shrieks, and Ms. Stuart's ill-timed ar
rival. The goop in her eyes didn't greatly concern him. He could handle it. On the other hand, Ms. Stuart posed an unknown threat.

A nondescript sedan sat in the driveway, a testimony to the bureaucracy he was about to face. Burying his anger, he strode into the house but paused in the foyer to straighten his tie. If Denise had called DFCS, as it seemed, Ryan was going to war with Denise, DFCS, and anyone else who dared to cast aspersions on his ability to raise his daughter or Carly's abilities as a nanny.

He strode into the family room where a tall African-American woman rose to greet him. Everything about her struck Ryan as severe—the navy blue suit with a pressed white blouse, her close-cropped silver hair, even her pointy black shoes and dagger-like earrings.

She stood and offered her hand. “Dr. Tremaine?”

He crossed the room in long strides and accepted the handshake. “You must be Ms. Stuart.”

“I am.” Her eyes stayed locked on his. “Do you know why I'm here?”

“Not exactly. But I'm fairly certain it has something to do with Denise Caldwell. She's Penny's aunt.”

Ms. Stuart didn't blink, didn't twitch. Nothing betrayed her thoughts as she perused his face. “As soon as Penny is finished with her bath, I'd like to speak to her alone. Do you have any objections?”

“Of course not.”

She sat back down on the armchair, but Ryan stayed on his feet. “If you don't mind, I'd like to take a quick look at my daughter's eyes. You probably know I'm an ophthalmologist.”

“Yes.”

“My son told me about the mustard incident.”

Ms. Stuart maintained her blank expression, but he detected a hint of suspicion. Did she think he was going to plot with Carly? That was ridiculous. They had nothing to hide. On the other hand, if he didn't check Penny, Ms. Stuart might consider him negligent.
If he was going to be judged, he wanted to be judged for doing the right thing. “If you'll excuse me for a moment . . .”

Again, no response. Just those hawkish eyes studying him. Ryan stared back, weighed the needs of the moment, and decided to say a few things to Ms. Stuart before checking Penny. He was ninety-nine percent certain her eyes were fine, while he was a hundred percent certain any hint of collusion with Carly sent the wrong message.

Ryan faced her. “Before I check Penny, I'd like to clarify a few things.”

“I'm listening.”

“Kyle tells me you walked into one of Penny's tantrums.”

“I did.”

“I'm sure you thought—”

BOOK: Together With You
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ads

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