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This time when she came around, she jumped like someone had prodded her ass with an iron rod. Riley had just got through asking the two women how this came about. ‘How did she get here anyway?”
“I reckon she drove that right there.” Constance pointed at the fancy SUV Celia had driven up in.
“You know what I mean. Why is she here of all places?” Riley eyed the concoction in the glass pitcher that you could smell a mile away. “How much of that did you give her?” Both Constance and Lenore got their backs up at the accusatory tone in his voice.
“Sounds to me like you’re trying to blame poor Constance and me for this; I’ll have you know…”
Riley held up his hand for peace, not even remotely interested in crossing the two women. The last thing he needs is for one or both of them to call his mother to put in a complaint. “I’m not blaming; I’m just asking so I know what I’m dealing with.”
“Oh, well now, that’s better. Let’s see now; this is our third pitcher… Is it Constance? Or is this number four?”
“Whatever, I’d say your woman took care of about one and a half of those on her own.”
“Yep, she can throw them back, but I’m not sure about their staying power.” The two women cackled, and Riley sighed as he reached for his little drunkard. “By the way, who the hell is Jasmine?” Riley almost dropped Celia at Constance’s question that came out of the blue?
“Yeah, who is she? Our girl seemed mighty put out. You better not be two-timing this sweet child.” Riley just rolled his eyes and kept on stepping off the porch. “Thanks for taking care of her ladies; I owe you one.” He held his precious cargo against his chest and wrestled the back door open so he could lay her in the backseat before walking around to climb into the driver’s seat.
After leaving the station, James had taken a detour instead of going back home. Almost sixteen years of pent-up anger had come to a head today, and he needed to let off some steam before he could face his wife and kids. He thought for sure that this would be the end of it that he could just walk away and not look back.
He was justified, after all, in his stance not to have anything to do with the child that he never wanted. Who could blame him for feeling the way he did? He never asked for this, never wanted to have this kind of connection to Misty, the woman he hated more than it should be possible to hate anyone or anything.
He hadn’t been moved by the detective’s words. Not when she described how the girl would stand outside of his home looking in, longing for the dad she never had. The fact that she was in trouble now meant nothing to him either, no matter what the detective may think. He cared even less when she let it drop that the kid might end up in the system since it looked like the mother might be going away for a long time for murder.
He wasn’t in the least bit interested, didn’t feel an ounce of pity or remorse, but the thing that almost broke him had almost brought him to his knees was the sight of the girl sitting alone in the room at the station. She looked so lost and alone that only a coldhearted bastard would not feel… something.
He still didn’t know if it had been done on purpose. If Detective Sparks had led him past that room intentionally or if it had been a coincidence. Whatever the case may be, the sight had followed him all the way out to his car and was still nipping at his heels as he walked around the little park in the town square.
“This is bullshit.” James, growing frustrated with his own thoughts, headed back to his car and slammed it into drive. There was no use thinking about any of this; the girl meant nothing to him. It was hard for him to reconcile the truth of her conception, of how she came to be, with any kind of paternal feeling.
Why should he feel guilty towards her when he had nothing to do with any of it? He hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t wanted kids with anyone else but his wife. Before Misty tried to derail his life out of jealousy and a misguided crush that he’d had no interest in, he’d had it all mapped out. He had the career he’d always wanted, the wife he’d always dreamt of, and the children he wanted them to share. The girl was nothing more than a blemish on his otherwise perfect life.
James came up short when he pulled into the garage and found his wife waiting there for him. “Cora, what’s going on? Why are you out here like this? Where are the children?” She didn’t answer him right away, just studied him to see if he was really okay. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop earlier; they didn’t have that kind of relationship where she needed to check behind her husband to make sure he wasn’t betraying her.
