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“Anyway, without anyone else knowing, it’d be a little hard at this point to ask for help and not have them wondering what’s going on.”
“I can see that.”
“So—” She stood up, dropping her pen again “—we’re a team, we keep this between ourselves for now, we know the ground rules.”
“Right.”
“Great.”
“Good.”
“Well…” She stood there watching him as if waiting for something.
“Yeah, well, see ya,” he said, turned and left.
He was glad that was done.
“AUNT PHYLLIS? Do macaronis grow in the ground?”
Phyllis looked across her kitchen table at the sweet little girl, Tory and Ben’s adopted daughter, sitting there shoveling homemade macaroni-and-cheese into her mouth.
“No, Alex,” she said, hiding a smile behind her full fork. “They’re man-made, but from wheat that grows in the ground.”
Her short blond hair giving her an elfin look, Alex stared at the macaroni currently stuck to the end of her fork, her face screwed up in a frown. “What about the cheese part?”
“It’s made from milk, which comes from—”
“Cows!” Alex burst out.
“That’s right,” Phyllis said just as a knock sounded on her back door. She was smiling as she rose to answer it, remembering not so long ago when little Alex had first come to them, a tough little girl who’d been hurt badly. The curious, precocious child sitting at her table now bore little resemblance to the abused and frightened child she’d been less than a year ago. Ben—who’d raised Alex from birth and then lost her to her biological father on his release from prison—had brought her home from California with the approval of state authorities. Ben was her true father, and under his care and Tory’s, Alex had regained her confidence.
Until Matt walked into the kitchen. The little blond dynamo froze in her chair, eyes glued on Matt. She stared only until he looked at her and then her eyes dropped. As did her chin. And her fork.
“Come here, munchkin,” Phyllis said, sitting down at the table again and pulling Alex out of her chair and onto her lap. “I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Matt. Matt, this is Alex.”
The two eyed each other, and Phyllis, watching them, could see wariness in both faces.
“Hi, Alex,” Matt said, his voice friendly, giving no indication of the hesitation Phyllis had just read in his expression.
Alex said nothing. Just continued to stare.
“Alex is Ben and Tory’s daughter,” Phyllis said.
Matt nodded.
“She’s having dinner with me tonight while Ben and Tory attend Lamaze class.”
“Well, your dinner sure looks good,” he said, his tone obviously meant to put the little girl at ease.
As Matt crouched by the cupboard that held her cleaning supplies, Alex wrapped her arms around Phyllis’s neck, drawing her head down.
“He’s a good guy?” she whispered, her face only an inch from Phyllis’s, her look intent.
“He’s a good guy,” Phyllis whispered back, sending an apologetic glance toward Matt. She’d told him about Tory’s past. But hadn’t told him about the special, intimate bond Tory shared with her new daughter, the bond of abuse the two of them had suffered. Both had been damaged by those given the charge of keeping them safe. “I wouldn’t let anyone near you who wasn’t a good guy, don’t you know that?” Phyllis continued softly, giving the child a hug.
After a moment of thought, Alex nodded, slid off Phyllis’s lap, and climbed onto her own chair to finish her dinner. Life was normal again.
Phyllis wished it was always that easy.
