“Hello, lovelies. Come on in.” Ian welcomed us into his home.
I followed Holly, who held an alert but hesitant Eva. My niece’s dark eyes darted around as she sucked her thumb, taking in the new surroundings. All of the living room furniture had arrived. Michelle and I’d completed the final touches earlier today, and I’d taken photos for my portfolio. Originally, I’d told Ian I’d stop by around seven so we could toast the finished product. Sadly, the ice blue with black lace corset and garter set I’d bought to celebrate the occasion remained folded away in my lingerie drawer. It would have to come out at a happier time, when my sister’s situation was behind us.
Eva caught sight of a brand new Minnie Mouse kitchen sitting in the center of the great room entryway and pushed against her mother to be let down. Holly let her loose. She removed the thumb and toddled over. She opened the pink oven door filled with plastic pots and pulled at a handle. The pile fell out on the floor, and her legs crouched down to inspect the bounty.
Ian stood to the side, hands on hips, watching with delight as Eva handled fake fruits and vegetables. He turned his grin and twinkly eyes my way. I might as well have ripped out my heart and placed it in his hands then and there. Who could not, absolutely, fall tops over tails for a man who offered his home to a stranger and her daughter and then bought the little girl a Disney kitchenette? I walked over and he slid an arm around my waist.
“Did you just buy this?”
He nodded.
I reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. The stubble tickled my lips.
“Did you eat yet?” he asked.
“Yes. We picked up fast food on the way over. I’ll stop by the store tomorrow morning to get some groceries for the girls.”
Holly knelt next to Eva and pretended to eat soup from a pint-sized pot.
“I had Brittany pick up a few things. She got milk, cereal, oatmeal, fruits and veggies, deli meats and some toddler snacks she found in the organic foods section. I didn’t know if she was potty trained. Do we need to get some diapers?”
Holly answered without looking up. “Eva’s potty trained, but she still sleeps with a Pull-up at night. I have about a dozen in my luggage.”
That was a relief. “Did you have Brittany pick up the kitchen?”
“Nah. She did the boring stuff. I went to the Toys R Us in Century City. You should see what I got for the pool.” He rubbed his hands together.
I raised an eyebrow.
With a little boy look, he trotted down to the guest room where Holly and Eva would be sleeping. He returned with a bag the size of a small elephant and proceeded to pull out a pink Dora the Explorer life vest and dropped it on the floor. Then he reached in and pulled out a handful of Dr. Seuss books; a soft, gray stuffed Horton elephant; and two purple toddler one-piece bathing suits. “I didn’t know if you brought your swim kit.” Some blocks and a turquoise princess dress with matching shoes and a star-tipped wand followed the swimsuits, and finally he pulled out a box with a picture of a giant, blow-up hobby horse with a squirter that shot water through its mouth.
Holly and I stared at the bounty of toys littering the floor. Her eyes went from me back to Ian.
“What? Is she too young for it?”
“Not at all,” I answered for Holly. “Did you pick all this up after you left?”
“Yes.”
Holly got off the floor, hugged Ian, and kissed his other cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.
Ian cleared his throat. “Uh, no problem.”
Then Holly threw her arms around me. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you two.”
“Hey, we’re sisters.” I returned her constricting, desperate embrace.
“I’ve a few calls to make. Why don’t you girls get settled? I’ll be in the office.” Ian retreated.
“Mommy, el-phant.”
Eva had moved over to the stash of toys and held the Horton by an ear. They were the first words I’d heard her speak since their arrival.
“That’s right, baby. His name is Horton.”
“Fred.” She tucked the plush animal under her arm then produced a dainty yawn.
“Why don’t I show you to your room?”
We scooped up the books and Holly’s duffel bag, and the girls followed me down the hall to the Art Deco bedroom.
“This is beautiful, Soph. Did you decorate it?”
“Sure did.”
“It’s gorgeous. I love that painting. Where did you find it?”
Eva parked herself on the floor with her pink Barbie backpack and proceeded to pull out all her worldly goods.
“I painted it.” An abstract canvas of shapes and lines in soft purple and honey colors complemented the headboard and wall color.
“You’re very talented.” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“Gee, thanks.” My sarcasm dripped.
“I’m serious. Did you ever think of painting more artwork?”
“I tend to make a piece for each client if my style fits in their décor.”
“How come I never knew that?” She tilted her head and her tired, somber eyes regarded me, as though seeing me through new lenses.
“I started doing it about three years ago. I don’t really think of it as high art.” I shrugged. I touched a long, thin box with a picture of a white plastic bedrail lying across the end of the bed. Ian thought of everything. I hoped his generosity meant he’d forgiven my thoughtless comments over breakfast on Sunday.
Eva finished her inventory and sat in the center of a pile of clothes and small toys, her ratty blanket, and Horton gripped tightly in one hand while sucking away on the thumb of her other hand.
“Why don’t you get Eva cleaned up and ready for bed? I’ll unpack your things.”
Holly dug toiletries and pajamas out of her luggage and took Eva into the bathroom to wash off the funky bus smell and get her ready for bed. Meanwhile, I unpacked the limited luggage, organizing their clothes into the closet and dresser. Eva’s high-pitched giggle echoed through the bathroom walls. Luckily, her disposition was sweet and flexible, but her quietness troubled me. Her wide, brown eyes seemed to comprehend her life was changing. Hopefully, for the better. I prayed Holly left early enough in Eva’s development that the little girl wouldn’t remember the violence.
The bedrail slid easily between the mattress and box spring, and I snapped it into the upright safety position. The girls came in, their hair damp, smelling of strawberry shampoo. Eva wore a Little Mermaid nightgown, her tiny pink toes peeping out from the bottom. Holly sported pink, polka-dotted shorts and a blue tank top. The purple-black bruise on her wrist stood out against her golden skin.
“C’mon, sweetie, hop into bed.” I patted the side nearest the bedrail. With Holly sleeping on the opposite flank, there’d be little risk of Eva falling out of bed onto the hard floor.
The imp snatched up her scruffy blanket and stuffed elephant and crawled under the covers. “Aunt Sophie read?” Doe eyes implored.
My heart constricted, and I kissed her forehead. “Sure, sweetie.” I picked Horton Hears a Who out of the stack and climbed in next to her.
“I’m going to get something to drink, if that’s okay.” Holly watched us snuggle on the bed.
“We’ll be fine.” I waved her off.
She kissed Eva. “Night, night, my sweet baby. I love you.”
“Love you, Mommy.” Eva gave her mother a sloppy smack on the cheek.
• • •
An exhausted Holly sat at the counter, beer in hand, speaking quietly about her daughter who she clearly loved to death, while Ian stood across from her, eating a banana. Sophie wandered down the hall turning off lights as she went.
“Is she sleeping?” Holly asked.
“Like a log.”
Holly gave a relieved sigh. “Thank heavens.”
“Would you like something to drink?” Ian could see the strain around Sophie’s eyes and in the tightness of her jaw. “Beer? Wine?”
“Just water. I’m driving.”
“You’re not staying?” Ian and Holly chimed together.
She shook her head. “Not tonight. You’ll be okay, Holly. I need to get some things in order for the morning.”
Ian frowned and his brows knit, but Sophie avoided his intent stare as, she climbed onto the stool next to her sister.
“Tomorrow morning we’re going to the courthouse to file a restraining order and get things rolling. I need to know you’re committed,” she said. “I’ll stand by your sided to fight this bastard, but I won’t fight you, too.”
Holly shuddered. “I have no energy left to love him. Not only do I want him out of my life, I want him out of Eva’s.”
“Good. Then we start tomorrow.”
She gulped the last dregs of her beer. “I’m pooped. Good night, Ian. Thanks again for letting us stay.”
“Any time.” He waited until Holly had shuffled down the hall to her room before confronting Sophie. “You can’t stay?”
“Sorry, no.” Her ponytail danced as she shook her head. “I don’t have any of my stuff, and I need to prepare for tomorrow. Sirius needs me, and I need to talk to Michelle to see if she can babysit Eva while I take my sister to meet with an attorney.”
“I can go pick up Sirius and you can call Michelle from here,” he argued. There was no reason for her to return home. He had a bad feeling about this tosser, Omar. He didn’t like Holly’s fear of him, and had no doubts that he meant what he said about killing her. This wasn’t the first abuser he’d come across. The thought of any man slapping a woman around disgusted him, and he didn’t want Sophie anywhere near this arsehole.
“Ian, I have business to take care of. Besides, I’m not the one in danger.”
“That’s not what the detective thinks.”
“What time will you leave tomorrow?” Her mouth was set in a stubborn line and her body language made it clear, Ian wasn’t going to win this argument tonight, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t revisit it again tomorrow. And again, if need be, until she came to her senses.
“About five thirty. I’ll try to be quiet so I don’t wake the girls. They look exhausted.” He came around to sit on the stool Holly had abandoned. “Do you want me to ask around for a good divorce attorney tomorrow? You know they grow on trees here in LA.”
The quip produced a slight lift to the corner of her mouth. “No. I already have one.”
Ian let out a grim sigh. “I keep forgetting.”
She tilted her head. Emotions Ian couldn’t understand rippled across her face. “Thank you for this. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty here. I don’t know why you’d go through so much trouble, but I appreciate it all the same.”
He trailed a callused thumb along her jawline. “I’d do it for any friend in need. She’s your sister, a ghra mo chroi.”
Her brow knit. “What language is that?”
“It’s Gaelic.”
“What does it mean?”
Instead of answering, he leaned in and his lips drifted along hers. Her fingers rubbed against his stubbly cheek. The kiss turned hard and needy. She broke it off and buried her head in his neck, breathing hard. She tightened the embrace, as if to draw strength from him.
To his regret, she released him and sat back. “I have to go.”
He took her hand as they sauntered to the door. “Keep me informed about what’s going on. Put your cop friend’s phone number on speed dial, in case her husband shows up.”
“I’ll do that.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone. If he shows his face, you’ll move in here until this gets cleared up and we know what we’re dealing with.”
She didn’t acknowledge the demand, just opened the front door. Loathe to let her go, Ian walked Sophie to her car and reluctantly closed the door behind her. She started the engine and the window slid down silently. Ian stuck his head in and laid a perfunctory kiss on her lips.
“Be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”