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“Yeah, but he only gets you if you’re on a bike.”
Childhood logic, so black and white. I guess I needed to sit down with both kids and spell out the danger. “No more sidewalk sales, Addy.”
“C’mon, Mom. How am I going to make any money?”
“You’re nine years old. What do you need money for?” Besides to place singles’ ads?
“Stuff.”
“I’ll buy you whatever ‘stuff’ you need.”
“But you don’t have any money.”
I winced, realizing how tuned in Addy was to my financial troubles. I was supposed to be providing for my kids, not putting them to work to help with cash flow problems.
“Listen, Addy. I’m not going to discuss this on the phone right now. I want you to take down your table and play inside the house or in the backyard.”
“But, Mom—”
“I’ll be home in ten minutes. If I catch you still out front, you’re grounded.” That was a first for me, but desperate times called for smothering actions.
“Grounded? From what?”
Good question. I glanced left and right, my brain stumbling for an answer. “Your bike.”
Brilliant! That would keep her safe at home.
“Whatever!” she yelled, and the line went quiet.
I dropped my phone on my desk and followed it with my forehead.
“What’s wrong?” Mona asked.
“Some guy is hanging around the house, giving Addy candy.”
“Shit.”
I glanced at Mona, her eyes round with the same question and alarm that had my legs weak at the moment. With three girls missing, now was not the time to play patty-cake with strangers bearing sweets.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.” Calling the cops seemed premature. After all, the candy hadn’t been drugged or filled with any other nasty surprises. The only solution I could come up with at the moment was to remove Addy from the equation.
“I need to talk to Aunt Zoe.” I shut down my computer, then grabbed my tote and purse. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Billy’s.”
Jane liked to have brunch with her employees on Fridays at Bighorn Billy’s, Deadwood’s equivalent to Applebee’s. It was her choice location for our weekly status meeting.
With a wave in Mona’s direction, I fast-walked to my Bronco and sped home. Except for a pudgy squirrel, the front yard was empty when I pulled in the drive. Too bad, because I’d have loved the excuse to keep Addy off her bike for a week—or year.
Layne’s peals of laughter from behind the house tugged me into the backyard. The sight of Addy chasing her chicken around the swing set, flapping her arms and clucking stopped me just inside the gate.
Tears filled my eyes without warning. Jesus! Whatever made me think I could raise and support two kids on my own? I was drowning here, and now there was a monster prowling nearby, possibly right outside my front door.
Straightening my sagging shoulders, I pretended that life wasn’t shooting spit wads at me. “Hi, guys.”
Layne ran over and welcomed me home with a waist hug.
Addy glared at me from the other side of the swing set.
