Vicki would allow him to.
He folded his arms and crossed his legs at the ankles, letting the afternoon sun bathe him with warmth. He knew a little about grieving. He’d lost his wife to cancer five years ago, and he still sometimes missed her so much he wondered if he could stand it. That might be what he was sensing in Vicki.
It had been only a little more than a year for her. A year was an infinity in terms of pain, but short in terms of recovering. The woman was probably a walking raw nerve ending.
He still wondered at her decision to come here. Oh, he’d been listening to Lena suggest it for months now, and knew it was what his neighbor had hoped for, but what about Vicki? She had left behind her support network, her friends, her home. And so had Krystal. Why? He’d never felt the least desire to leave Conard City after Callie’s death. Yeah, he’d eventually bought a house, but that hadn’t deprived him of anything. He and Callie had been living in one of the apartments near the college, and they’d always planned to buy their own place. He’d felt as if he was fulfilling the dream for both of them.
But it was entirely different for Vicki. And for Krystal. He kept coming back to that little girl and wondering if this were best for her. Of course, Vicki was her mother and must have had her reasons, must have determined this complete severing would benefit her in the long run.
Maybe it would. Krystal had been three when her daddy died. She probably hardly remembered him. She wouldn’t remember all that much about being four, either. Dan sure couldn’t. But she would remember this move.
At least he didn’t have a kid to worry about, so those were shoes that didn’t fit him even temporarily. He and Callie had wanted kids, though. When they found out why they couldn’t, it had been too late for Callie.
Hell. He uncrossed his ankles, straightened and scuffed his foot at the dirt. He didn’t want to run down this road again, but Vicki’s situation was reminding him. Funny how he thought he’d moved on, until something reared up to remind him he hadn’t moved as far as he thought he had.
The smart thing to do might just be to stay away, unless Lena needed him. Keep his hard-won equilibrium in place. But then he thought of Krystal, a cop’s little girl, and Vicki, a cop’s widow, and he knew it wasn’t in him to stay away.
A decent human being would help however he could. But for a cop it went beyond that. The family took care of its own, and Vicki and her daughter were family.
Simplistic, maybe, but every cop counted on that kind of support for his or her family when something bad happened.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and saw Vicki approaching from the office. Today she wore jeans again, but this time with a T-shirt emblazoned with the Alamo. Texan through and through, he thought, smiling faintly.
The smile she gave him looked brittle. “All done.”
He gestured to the car. “All ready.”
“Thanks.”
He hesitated a beat, then said, “I can walk back, if you like.”
Her expression turned quizzical. “Why should you do that?”
“You might be feeling a little overwhelmed.”
Her blue eyes widened a shade, then she shook her head. “Hop in, cowboy. I’m going to feel overwhelmed for a while.”
So he climbed into her little Toyota while she started the engine. It was a tight fit, but he didn’t want to push the seat back. Adjusting the car for himself struck him as an intrusion.
“Give yourself some leg room,” she said as she turned the car and drove toward the street.
She was observant. Reaching for the lever, he pushed the seat back. He sought a way into conversation that wouldn’t come out wrong. “Is this a big adventure for Krystal?”
“So far she seems to be reacting that way. This morning was like Christmas as she was unpacking her toys. And I need to find her some friends soon.”
“There’s a park just a couple blocks from the house. Swings, monkey bars, slides, sandbox. That might be a good starting point.”
“Thanks. I’ll take her there.”
Okay, then. As a cop he had become fairly good at hearing what wasn’t said. She hadn’t asked him to show her the park. She didn’t want him to. Vicki Templeton was setting boundaries wherever she could.
Fine by him. There was a difference between being there if she needed anything, and pushing himself on her. He could do the former, and it might be better in the long run. He had some rawness himself since Callie and hadn’t even dated since her death. Eventually, he supposed he would again, but he’d know when the time was right. For now, however, he couldn’t imagine anyone in Callie’s place.
Deciding that Vicki might be wise, he settled back, intending to focus solely on helping Lena clear her house.
And on Krystal. Vicki might think it was a big adventure for the child, but he’d seen her sitting on a porch swing, sucking her thumb and looking like an abandoned, weary waif.
He would do everything he could for that child. Starting with finding her a friend.
* * *
“Where’s Dan?” Lena asked, when Vicki stepped inside.
“He said he had something to do, and would see you tomorrow.” From upstairs, she could hear Krys singing at the top of her lungs. Vicki looked up. “She sounds happy.”
“For now. I left her to finish her playroom. There wasn’t much left to do, and she’s pretty certain about where she wants everything.”
“She sure is.” Vicki dropped her purse on the hall table. “I told her to put her toys where she wanted in there. I hope it was okay.”
“Perfectly okay.” Lena slipped her arm around Vicki’s shoulders. “Now let’s you and me have a quiet cup of coffee and relax for a minute. You’ve earned a chance to take a deep breath.”
Vicki hesitated only briefly. Keeping busy had become a kind of refuge for her, a way to keep grief and despair at bay. Coming here had been a way to escape the constant reminders of loss. Somehow it just hadn’t been getting easier.
Lena took them into her kitchen, which like many older ones didn’t have a lot of cabinetry or counter space, but instead had a big round table for most kitchen chores. Despite its lack of the conveniences Vicki expected, it was a large room and probably worked well. One long bank of counters and cabinets provided enough room for a microwave and a food processor, and little else. A sink with a short counter filled a second wall. That left a stove and refrigerator side by side on the third wall, and the table, which sat beneath the wide windows.
The coffee had already brewed and Lena set out two mugs for them. Vicki slid into an old oak chair at the table, saying, “We must seem like an invasion force to you.”
Lena laughed. “Actually, no. Why do you think I kept asking you to come here? This is a big old house, too big for one person, and it’s going to be yours someday, anyway. You might as well make any changes you want. Better than being caretaker of the family museum.”
