to come back when needed. Vicki could feel the blue wall enclosing her in its comforting grip already. What had she thought she was escaping? But she knew: familiar faces that inevitably reminded her of her loss. At least these were all new faces, with no connection to Hal.
She was still sitting on the porch with Krystal in her lap when Dan returned carrying big brown bags.
“Dinner bell,” he said cheerfully. “And one big hamburger for Miss Krystal here.”
The words galvanized Krystal for the first time in hours. She squirmed off Vicki’s lamp, left her teddy bear behind and excitedly followed Dan into the house.
Vicki followed more reluctantly. Tired as she was from the long drive and unloading, not to mention getting ready for this big move, she hadn’t felt hungry for a while. She ate only because she had to, not because she wanted to. It was like the period right after the shock of Hal’s death.
Maybe this move had been a bad idea for a whole lot of reasons.
Lena had a big house, as local houses went, but right now it was full of boxes and excess furniture. The dining room was still clear, though, and they ate there at a table that showed the effects of the years, with scratches, faded stains and a few deep dings.
Lena brought out plates and flatware, but Krystal wanted to eat from the foam box. Her burger was huge, so Vicki cut it in half for her, and tried not to look at the mound of french fries. Of course, Krys went first for the fries, a rare treat.
Two of the containers held huge salads, so Vicki put some in a bowl next to Krys. “Eat your salad, too, honey.”
“I will.”
Lena spoke. “Sit down and eat, Vicki. You’re exhausted. I can look after Krys’s needs, can’t I, hon?”
Krys nodded. Whatever else might be going on inside her, her appetite hadn’t diminished.
Vicki took a seat at last, with Krystal between her and Lena, and Dan across the way.
“You must be tired,” he said to her. He still hadn’t opened the box in front of him. “I can just take my meal and run.”
Considering how he had helped, and that he’d run out to get this meal for them, letting him leave would be churlish, no matter how fatigued she was feeling.
“No, please,” she said. “You’ve been so kind to us today. I’m tired, but not that tired.” She tried for a smile and apparently managed it, because he returned it with one of his own.
“Mommy worked hard,” Krystal announced, at last reaching for her burger. “I had to stay with friends lotsa times.”
“Yes you did, honey. But you helped me choose, didn’t you?”
Krys nodded, then disappeared behind the huge burger. She wouldn’t be able to get her mouth around it, a mess would ensue and Vicki didn’t care. She was just glad to see Krys enjoying herself.
Vicki looked at Lena. “We took over your house. I’m sorry.”
“And I’m not,” her aunt said. “This is a big house for one woman.” She looked at Dan. “I don’t know if I ever told you, but this is the family house, from the earliest days of Conard City. It’s been passed down for nearly a hundred years, and here I am, rambling around in a house that was meant for a big family. There’s plenty of room for two more. We just need to do some sorting and arranging. I might not have it all settled by tomorrow, though.”
“Probably not,” Dan agreed, holding half a sandwich in his hand. “Just let me know when you want help and how much you need. But take your time.” He glanced toward the front room with a humorous twinkle in his eyes. “That’s a lot of boxes, never mind furniture.”
“I probably overdid it,” Vicki said. “Maybe I just gave up. Sorting, selling things, giving them away...” She looked down. “I guess I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
Lena reached out and patted her hand. “You did just fine. I wasn’t kidding, Vicki. I didn’t want either of you to give up a single thing that you want. It’s not necessary. As for some of the old stuff around here, I’ll be glad to have a reason to see the last of it.” She laughed and reached for her bowl of salad. “You know, more than once I’ve had a fantasy about bringing in a decorator to do the whole place over. Beyond my means, I know, but I’m not going to mind the changes.” Then she leaned over and looked at Krystal. “And you, my dear Krys, have a whole room for a playroom. Or you will once we move a few things out.”
“Goodie,” said Krystal, her mouth full of hamburger. Vicki let it go.
“Should I groan now?” Dan asked. Lena laughed.
Vicki kept her eyes down, even as she tried to smile. It was impossible not to look at Dan and see the spark of male interest in his gaze. She wasn’t ready for that, didn’t know if she would ever be, but she was absolutely determined never again to care for a cop. One trip through that hell had been enough for a lifetime.
Right now she had only one concern, helping Krys through another major upheaval. Vicki hoped it would be the last one, but she wasn’t going to throw anything else into the pot for the girl. Now her daughter had not only lost her father, but she’d lost everything familiar except what they could carry with them. All her friends, her preschool, the places they’d frequented. Ripped away from her.
Vicki barely heard the rest of the conversation as she once again debated with herself the wisdom of her decision. She knew she needed to move on, both for her own sake and her daughter’s. She had to build them a life of some sort away from the haunting memories. She had to set an example of strength, find some joy in life again.
So yes, she’d had good reasons for this move. But gazing at Krystal, who was beginning to look as if dinner had made her sleepy, she wondered whose interests had driven her more.
“Honey? Are you getting sleepy?”
Krys lifted her head, trying to look alert, but failing. “I guess. Read me a story?”
“You bet.”
“Just take her up,” Lena said. “I’ll clean up. We can reheat her burger for her lunch tomorrow.”
Upstairs, Vicki found the box with Krys’s sheets and pillows, and soon the bed looked familiar again, with brightly colored balloons on the linens and comforter. Krys climbed in after allowing her mother to wash her face and hands at the bathroom sink, then waited expectantly for her story.
She wasn’t going to last long, Vicki thought as she dug out one of her daughter’s favorite Dr. Seuss stories. The Boston rocker had made it up here, so she pulled it over to the bed and held Krys’s hand while she read the silly, hypnotic words.
Krys’s eyes started to close, but Vicki kept reading so that the happy rhymes would follow her into sleep. Soon, though, the girl seemed fast asleep, her breathing deep and regular. Vicki eased her hand away and stood, placing the book on the chair.
The floor creaked a little as she crossed tiptoe to the door, and Krys’s voice stopped her.
“Mommy? Don’t go away like Daddy did.”
The words froze Vicki like
