Giselle wasn’t entirely sure where her words originating from. Considering she had tried her hardest to ward off Tierney less than a week ago, asking if Stephanie—a complete stranger, and a troubled teen at that—could come home with them was crazy. In fact, she’d rather not contemplate too closely the fact that she even thought of it as “coming home with them.”
Sergeant Connor looked hesitant. “As heartwarming as that is, I’m not sure this will fly with the CPS. We have no idea who you really are.”
“Yet CPS was willing to place five kids with family-of-the-year over there.” Tierney motioned toward the Brodys, who stood together, still gesturing wildly in their direction.
“Hey, I hear you, but I don’t call the shots when it comes to these matters.”
Tierney sighed. “Giselle is a very famous composer and well known in the music industry, as well as in East Quay.”
“Really?” Bending, Connor looked closely at Giselle, who wasn’t sure she approved of Tierney’s well-meant praise.
“Really,” Giselle said. “If you, or the CPS, want references, you can call Manon Belmont, the president of the Belmont Foundation. I’m sure everyone in the state of Rhode Island has heard of her.”
Connor nodded, looking impressed. “I sure have, ma’am. Let me check with CPS. They’re looking exasperated over there. You may just stand a chance.”
“Tierney?” Stephanie murmured from the backseat. “Are you sure? And, ma’am, please don’t feel you have to do this. I’m just glad to get away from the Brodys. Especially Dylan.” She shuddered.
“First of all, Stephanie, call me Giselle. All this ma’am business is getting on my nerves.” Giselle smiled to show she was joking. Half-joking, at least. She had been teetering on the verge of a panic attack since the kids entered the car and the cops and CPS officials surrounded the vehicle. If she focused on Stephanie, perhaps she could disregard her anxiety. She thanked unnamed deities that it was still dark. She could pretend the darkness was a surrounding wall.
“Okay, Giselle. But still.”
“Second,” Giselle said, “I rarely do anything I don’t want to. Not counting your friend Tierney here. She talked her way into her job as my assistant. Now, what I want you to understand, Stephanie, is that if they let you come with us, it is temporary. Tierney will eventually move on, and I’m pretty sure you won’t want to stay after she’s gone.” Giselle’s heart skipped several beats and then contracted painfully before it beat normally again.
“Yeah, I know.” Stephanie let go of the now-sleeping girl and scooted forward. “It’s really generous of you. I’d never dream of asking for something more permanent than that.”
Giselle’s heart did the stop-and-go trick again, making her fear she might go into a panic merely from sympathizing with Stephanie.
Sergeant Connor tapped on the window, and Tierney rolled it down. “Okay, folks. CPS can’t get ahold of anyone at the Belmont Foundation, so I’m afraid Stephanie—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Pulling out her cellphone, Giselle found Manon’s private number in her contacts. Though it was the middle of the night, she didn’t hesitate to make the call. Four rings went through, and Giselle thought she would get Manon’s voicemail, but then she heard a sleepy voice.
“Giselle?” Manon cleared her throat. “What’s happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m sorry to call you like this, Manon. I’m all right, but I need your help.” Giselle described the situation to the woman who was admired and respected throughout the state for her charity work and loved worldwide for being part of Chicory Ariose. “Can you talk to Child Protective Services and let them know it’s safe for them to let this girl come home with us?”
“Sure. Absolutely. Wait. Who is us? Your new assistant and you?” Manon sounded less sleepy now.
“Yes. Tierney and I.” Giselle cringed but refused to let her reaction show.
“Okay. Put CPS on. I know most of those folks,” Manon said.
Giselle handed the phone over to Connor, who took it to the group of social workers. It took less than a minute, and then Connor returned and gave the phone back. “That did it.” She smiled. “You are free to drive home as soon as my officer has collected the girl’s belongings.”
Tierney wiped at her now-wet cheeks and then flung her arms around Giselle. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you! You can’t imagine how much this means. You’re just so amazing and sweet that I’m at a loss for words.”
Her cheeks warming, Giselle could hardly breathe as Tierney hugged her closer. The embrace was firm, but not hard, and Tierney smelled of soap and something resembling lilacs. Giselle trembled and couldn’t stop no matter how she tried.
“You’re welcome. And here comes an officer with a bag. That yours, Stephanie?” Giselle pointed when Tierney slowly let go of her. Oddly enough, this absence made Giselle shudder, mainly because she was cold and missed the warmth emanating from Tierney.
“Yes, it’s mine.” From the backseat, Stephanie sounded rather shell-shocked.
The CPS staff came to fetch the younger children, and Giselle’s heart broke as she watched them cry and cling to Stephanie. The children relented only when Giselle raised her voice and firmly promised that they would get to see Stephanie again at some point.
“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” Stephanie said after she pulled the door next to her closed. “We have trust issues as it is.”
“I fully intend to take you to see the other children before they’re permanently placed. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” She glanced back at the pale girl as Tierney started the car. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep, Stephanie? The seat you’re in folds back, and I believe you have enough pillows and blankets.”
Stephanie studied Giselle in the faint light from the dashboard. Then she nodded firmly. “I believe you. Mostly because Tierney wouldn’t have brought you unless she thought the world of you. I’ll try to get some rest.”
“Good.” Giselle blinked at the young girl’s words. So, Tierney thought the world of her? Perhaps her talent as a composer, but personally? How could that possibly be? Tierney didn’t really know her.
Tierney drove back toward the main road and toward home. It was such a relief to think she’d be in her own house in mere hours. With a little luck, they’d be back in East Quay before the sun came up.
“I bet it weirds you out when I gush about stuff, but I’m so grateful that you stood up for Steph. It’s odd, but it’s as if someone had stood up for me when I was that age, like Steph’s relief is rubbing off on me.” Tierney shrugged. “I probably sound totally nuts.”
“What you say is entirely plausible.” Giselle tried to put her thoughts into words. “You were in the same situation at that age. Knowing exactly what Stephanie has been going through, not just tonight, but for years, you empathize—perhaps you even relive it some?”
“And then some.”
“So, when I’m able to do something about it, with Manon’s help, mind you, you’re bound to feel some of the same relief. If we’d had to leave Stephanie behind to go to a group home, you would have felt that as well—only so much sadder.” Letting herself act intuitively, she placed her hand on Tierney’s knee. “Your heart is so big, it’s as if you absorb the feelings from those around you. It goes beyond empathy. You wear their skin, and you respond like you’ve been there for their entire life. That’s how I felt when you wrote those lyrics about me. It wasn’t just a lucky guess on your part. You wrapped yourself in my persona and put it on paper. That’s why I was so adamant that Vivian and Mike should hear it.” Removing her hand, Giselle inhaled deeply and let the deep breath cleanse her.
They drove on in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead it was calm and safe, a homey feeling that soothed Giselle’s frayed nerves. Her inner panic-attack gauge lowered from red to green, which was such relief.
As they drove just outside East Quay, heading for Giselle’s house, Tierney started to fidget. She let her fingers travel up and down the rim of the wheel, pulled at her sleeves, and pushed her hair from her face. Something was clearly wrong.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you? Preferably before we end up in a ditch.” Giselle laced her fingers hard, bracing for impact.
“I—well, I mean—I…” Tierney rubbed her temple. “Okay. Listen. The cottage is amazing. But it’ll be cramped with both Stephanie and me in there. She—can she stay in the main house?” Tierney glanced quickly at Giselle.
“You both should.” Damn. She’d done it again. Giselle’s words had come as if she was shooting from the hip, with little, if any, editing and certainly without consideration. “I have two spare rooms farther down the corridor from my bedroom. You will have to share a bath, but you’ll still have your respective privacy.” And she would have none whatsoever.
Giselle groaned inwardly. This would never have come to pass before Tierney showed up on her doorstep. Her safety, her hard-won control of her anxiety and panic attacks, had been at the forefront of her priorities. They came before even her music. She would never have been able to compose if she’d felt unsafe and about to spin out of control. And here she sat in her car, just before sunrise, with Tierney and a virtually unknown girl, offering them her guest rooms—in her house. And she couldn’t take her words back. Human decency combined with determination kept her from changing her mind. And, yes, she would hate to read the disappointment on Tierney’s face.
“You’re sure? You’re okay with that?” Slowing down, probably as not to have a last-minute accident, Tierney looked over at Giselle, her lips trembling. “I won’t be offended if you decide to let just Steph stay in your house. Though, I can’t lie, it’d be awesome if we could all be together.” Tierney gripped the wheel harder. “Now, that sounded way too presumptuous. Sorry.”
Tenderness erupted in Giselle, which took her by complete surprise, and she hid a smile at Tierney’s obvious attempt to cover up her reaction to her own words. “It would be best for Stephanie.”
“Yes. Of course.” Tierney kept her eyes firmly on the road. “Perhaps we should wake the sleeping beauty in the back. We’ll be at the house in less than five minutes.”
Understanding that she was meant to perform the task, Giselle turned and gently nudged Stephanie. “Hey there. We’re almost at the house. You all right?”
Slowly, Stephanie opened her dark-blue eyes. “I’m fine. Better than fine.” She smiled faintly. “Exhausted though.”
“I suppose we all are. We should get some sleep first thing.” Giselle found it increasingly easier to communicate with the girl, perhaps because she could imagine a very young Tierney in Stephanie.
What that thought implied, she’d rather not dwell on in her fatigued state.