Eliza was relieved when the weekend finally came. Saturday morning she slept later than usual, waking to the soft kiss that Janie planted on her cheek.
“Hi, my sweetheart,” she smiled, holding open the covers to invite the child inside.
Janie climbed into the bed and mother and daughter snuggled together.
“What are we going to do today, Mommy?”
“Well, I thought we should go and pick out a new car. KayKay and Poppie will be going back to their apartment and we need to have our own car. Plus Mrs. Garcia is coming and she’ll be needing the car, too.”
Janie played with a strand of Eliza’s hair, twisting it in her small fingers. “I don’t want Mrs. Garcia. I want KayKay and Poppie.”
“You’ll still have KayKay and Poppie, honey. We’ll see them all the time. They just won’t be here every single day. Mrs. Garcia will take care of you. She’s very nice and I know you are going to like her.”
“I liked Mrs. Twomey.”
Eliza made a concerted effort not to change the expression on her face as the child peered into it.
“I liked Mrs. Twomey, too, Janie. But Mrs. Twomey is sick and she can’t take care of you anymore.”
“But I thought Mrs. Twomey loved me.”
“She did, honey.”
“But she never calls me and she didn’t send me a birthday card.” There was puzzlement and hurt on Janie’s face.
Eliza pushed the soft hair back from the child’s brow and stroked the top of her head. “She can’t, Janie. Mrs. Twomey has problems that she has to work out and she has to concentrate all her efforts on those.”
“Will I ever see her again?”
“I don’t know, Janie.”
Please, God, I certainly hope not. That would be all they needed.
“Come on. Let’s get up and get dressed,” she said, trying to divert her daughter. “Want to go out for breakfast?”
“Pancakes?” Janie’s eyes widened.
“Great idea. Go see if KayKay and Poppie want to come with us.”
Janie hopped from the bed and scurried down the hallway while Eliza rose and went to the bathroom to shower. Twenty minutes later, wearing no makeup and dressed in jeans, a red T-shirt and soft moccasins, Eliza was putting her wallet and checkbook into a casual shoulder bag when the doorbell rang.
Larson Richards was standing at the front door, a tiny, golden puppy cradled in his arms. The moment Eliza saw him, she instantly resented him for what she anticipated he was about to do. How dare he?
And how could she say no to the little girl who jumped up and down in excitement as she took the soft little yellow Lab into her arms?