AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s kind.” She avoids my eyes. “Abigail has done a wonderful job of making this place cozy.”
That feels like a pointed dig. She doesn’t like me. In fact, I may be the reason she’s barely left her room. Considering how I’ve opened my home to her, I find her dislike baffling. I’ve done nothing to offend her, nothing consciously. It shouldn’t bother me, but her attitude mixed with all of this undercover cop nonsense is giving me a headache.
“She does have a passion for interior decorating,” I answer, keeping an even tone.
It’s true, Abigail has created a lovely space, but it’s still our space. My decision to let her stay. She could be grateful.
“And Daisy is really cute,” she says.
I look up to see she’s standing by the refrigerator, as if it’s her home base. She isn’t looking at me, but at the girls, happily playing away. Charlie has barely acknowledged her. I realize she has her eyes trained on Daisy.
“She’s the best,” I agree. “She’s our special girl.”
Okay, this is officially awkward. Without the buffer of the club, I don’t know how to have small talk with a stranger in my house. She isn’t a prisoner. She isn’t helping me keep my friend alive. She’s a vulnerable woman who lacks social skills and seems to want to avoid me like the plague.
I look at my watch and feel dismayed. Abigail will be at her showing for at least another hour. Hopefully Meredith decides to go back to her room soon. But, of course not. She moves to the table, again giving me a wide berth, and sits down next to Daisy. Again, I observe the lack of affection between her and her sister. It isn’t my place to question, but it’s weird.
“How long have you been taking care of Charlie?” I ask, curious to know more about the two. After all, if they’re around my kid, I have a right to make sure they aren’t psychopaths.
“Only a few weeks.” Meredith takes a plastic teacup from Daisy, who’s thrilled to have another guest at her tea party.
“It must be difficult taking on that responsibility. Not many people in your position would.”
She sighs, and though she smiles down at Daisy, a heaviness hangs around her. I sense her tension, almost disdain for me. What the hell did I do? My distrust for her grows. Her uneasiness about a basic conversation leads me to believe she’s hiding something.
“You do what you have to do,” she mutters. “I’m sure it was an adjustment when you had Daisy.”
In response, my daughter looks up at me and beams, delighted to be included in a grown-up conversation, even if she doesn’t understand the significance. I am immediately calm. A surge of happiness swells through me. I love her so much. I can’t wait to meet her little brother or sister. Despite the challenges of stepping down as Prez, being able to spend so much time with her is the highlight of my life.
I look at Meredith to find her staring between us curiously. There’s a look of surprise on her face, and I can’t decipher it. It’s the first time she’s looked at me since she arrived. I almost see wheels spinning in her head.
“Daisy is special,” I tell her. “She was the best baby, and she brings us nothing but joy.”
“Interesting,” Meredith mutters, but she doesn’t expand. After a few tense, silent moments, she says, “Daisy seems to bring most people joy.”
Her words don’t surprise me, but her tone does. All of Daisy’s teachers have said the same thing over the years. Daisy is a little ray of sunshine and she brings joy and energy into every room she enters. I always assumed that was her personality, perhaps a latent gene that skipped me. But something about the way Meredith says it makes me stop short. It’s as if she’s a doctor, telling me Daisy’s joy is a symptom of something.
“I suppose so,” I murmur. “She’s a sweet girl. She gets it from her mother, I guess,” I joke, trying to ease the tension in my chest. I don’t like her comments.
“I’ve never seen Charlie so happy,” she says as if the girl isn’t in the room, sitting a few feet away from her. Charlie rolls her eyes and keeps her eyes trained on her fake cup of tea.
“Shut up, Meredith,” Charlie hisses, and I side with her.
Meredith sticks out her tongue at Charlie and stands up. “Thank you for the tea,” she tells Daisy. “I really should get back to work.”
She nods at me, once again avoiding eye contact. She exits the room, and I follow her. Without the girls around to hear, I can ask her some serious questions about her situation. All of a sudden, I’m questioning my decision to let her stay.
“Hold on a moment,” I call to her, and I see her stiffen.
She turns to me with a resigned expression, her body tense.
“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I tell her. “But you’re staying in my home, and your sister has become close to my daughter. Would you mind if we sat and talked for a moment?”
She nods, again in resignation, and moves to the living room couch. She sits on the farthest end, perched right on the edge. She looks like a stalked animal, ready to make a hasty escape if the situation calls for it.
“Graveyard told me next to nothing about you,” I tell her. “But he’s like a brother to me and I trust him. You’re in a bad situation, clearly. I’m happy to give you a safe place to stay, but I need to know that my family is also safe. What’s wrong with your sister?”
“Nothing’s wrong Charlie,” she says defensively. “She’s had a tough go of it, and I’m trying to make her life better.”
