Jules tapped her fingernails on the lawn chair’s aluminum armrest. The sound echoed off the empty walls. Sunday, hmmm. She glanced at the pile of dirty clothes in the living room corner. Along the wall, the assortment of odd shaped boxes and plastic tubs cascaded everywhere. She’d pulled needed items from each box without actually opening them for the last several weeks. To organize that mess, she’d need a washing machine, a dryer, and some shelves. Oh, and the desire to do it. Yeah, that wasn’t happening today.
She stood up. A drive. What better way to get acquainted with the area? A larger town existed not far away, so that’s where she’d start. Shoes on in a flash, she grabbed her purse and keys and sprinted out the door before the clock said 7:30. No make-up these days. It took too much effort.
She loved the jeep. Always wanted one. Even back when a Lexus and a convertible Mustang sat in the garage, she’d been fascinated with jeeps. Darrel said they’d never use one. It was more of a vehicle for outdoor folks. Not for them, definitely. She sniffed and cocked her head.
“Bite me, Darrel! I own a jeep.” She glanced around to make sure no one overheard and patted the white exterior. On to the drive.
Exhilaration shot through her as she cranked open the window, zoomed down the street, and whipped onto the highway toward Princeton. Fourteen miles. She turned the radio on a country station, but didn’t recognize the song. Jules hadn’t kept up to date with current tunes, given the muck she’d survived the last seven months. But she blared it anyway, the music trailing her vehicle in a warped sound. Her hair flew around in disarray. For a moment, she could almost imagine being free of worry and pain.
Jules tried to stay in that frame of mind as she drove through town. Given the early hour, not much had opened, but to her delight, the large discount department store was. She spent several hours doing what her father called, “turning things over.” No matter. It soothed her soul to leave her fingerprints on a few items. It validated her. Afterwards, armed with fast food, she pulled over at a park—a scenic view with a lake. She ate her lunch watching old guys fish and preschoolers play. The sun was lovely, even hot. She was a person. A real human.
By the time she arrived back at her house, it approached two-thirty. Pleased with herself for finding a full morning and half an afternoon’s worth of entertainment, Jules carried in her minor purchases and put them away. A movement caught her eye. She glanced toward the sliding glass doors. A small girl knelt at the fish pond.
Her thick, dark hair hung below her waistband and she looked…maybe, five? What was she doing here?
Jules unlocked the glass door, and the child looked up but didn’t take off. Stepping onto the porch, Jules smiled. She must belong to the neighbor.
“Hello.” Jules greeted the girl like she’d just entered her classroom.
“Hi.” The imp went back to peering into the water.
Jules’ eyebrows rose. Perhaps the child didn’t understand she needed permission to be in this yard. Or maybe she didn’t care. Jules tried again. “Do you like goldfish?”
“Uh-huh.”
Mmm. Okay, time to get more direct. “Do your parents’ know you’re in my backyard?”
The child’s head shot up, and her hands halted in midair. Her posture reminded Jules of Snow White holding her palms skyward in every frame, even when the house-keeping began.
“Don’t tell my Daddy. He’s asleep.”
Now she was getting somewhere. “So that probably means you shouldn’t be here.”
The girl’s face was priceless. Her mouth formed an O, and her slanted oval eyes widened. They were so dark the pupil disappeared in the color, making them seemed twice as large. That, coupled with her dusky skin, had Jules wondering about her parentage.
“I…I just wanted to see the fishies. I like ’um.” She hung her head.
Okay, I’m a dirty, rotten, rubber-heeled dog-kicker. “I understand, but it’s best if your father knew where you were.”
“I’ll go back ’fore he wakes up.”
Jules sat down at the end of the porch.
“Well, maybe you could stay for just a few minutes.” Jules felt wormy for enjoying the little pixie’s company. “Which fish is your favorite?”
The little girl became quite animated. “The ones with all the colors. They’re white, and orange, and black. But they’re hard to see. Usually, it’s the orange ones that come to the top.”
She stretched her face forward and made her lips open and close like a fish. Her delicate Snow White hands became imaginary fins. Her body moved slowly, eyes bugging.
“Oh, those are called calico.” Jules smiled as the fish fact popped out. “They’re probably not as common.”
The little girl froze and stared at her. She tilted her head to the side. “What’s comma?”
Jules laughed. When was the last time she’d done that?
“Not comma, common.” She enunciated the word, dragging out its pronunciation. “Common means there are more of them than the others. Most of the goldfish are orange, and only a few are calico.”
“Oh, one time I saw a white one. My mommy had a white cat a long time ago. But she’s dead now.”
“That’s too bad. I’m sorry your cat died.”
“No, not my cat. My mommy is dead.” The child bent over the fishpond.
Oh, my. Jules swallowed. “Oh, I am really sorry to hear that.”
The little girl shrugged as she glanced at Jules. “I don’t ’member her. But there’s a picture in the sun room, and daddy holds it all the time. Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, he’s hugging it.”
Oh, dear. If this poor man knew his daughter not only left the house while he napped, but also promptly exposed some very secret skeletons in his closet to a near stranger, Jules was sure he’d be appalled.
Crossing her arms, she chose her words with care. “You never did give me your name.”
“Andi.”
“Andi, that’s pretty. Now, Andi, I think it’d be wise for you not to tell just anyone that story. It’s what we call ‘personal information.’ And your daddy might not appreciate everyone knowing personal information.”
Andi stood up, her little head tilted to the left and her hands on her hips. She nodded, and slung her hands as she spoke. “Yeah. Sometimes it just comes out. Did you know my daddy drawed a big fish pond at the zoo?”
Jules jerked her head at the quick change in subject and put on her best surprised face. “I did not know that.”
“He did. We went to see it, and it’s got big Koi fish in it. Fat ones.”
Jules’ brow puckered in thought. “Is it a real pond?”
Andi’s head bobbed up and down, the long dark hair swung back and forth. “Uh-huh, and they have Koi not goldfish. There’s a boy in my class named McCoy and he looks like a fish.”
The child covered her mouth as she giggled. Jules couldn’t help but feel a grin tug at her lips.
“He has big green eyes and he’s not even making them big. They just are.” She laughed again and stomped her foot. “And when he gets in trouble he does this.”
She paused long enough to show Jules her fish lips once more. Jules smiled. The child’s personality poured on her like sunshine. Fresh. Full of hope. Was it wrong to want to bask in her sweetness for just a few moments?
“I also got a girl in my class named Goldie, but she don’t look like a fish. She looks like my best friend. ’Cause she is.” Andi crossed her arms over her body and swung back and forth. “What’s your name?”
Her first response was to say Mrs. Noble. But she wasn’t anymore. Someone else was. She was Jules Summers once again. A label she hadn’t used for twenty years.
“Jules.” She wondered if Andi’s father approved of a first name basis relationship. The thought reminded Jules that the girl probably ought to head home.
“Oh, Jules sounds like Julie.” Andi grinned.
Jules stood up. “I suppose you have a ‘Julie’ in your class, too?”
“Nope, my babysitter is Julie. She’s moving. She’s gonna go to college somewhere else.”
Jules hid a smile. The pixie routinely revealed everything she knew. “How about I walk you home?”
“Well, since I know your name and all.” Andi gestured with her hand like a grown-up explaining something. “I guess you’re not a stranger anymore.”
Jules pushed her lips together, trying to remain serious. “Yes, it’s important you remember your stranger-danger rules.”
Andi nodded. “Uh-huh, like don’t take candy. Don’t get in a car and stuff like that.”
Jules headed around the house, and Andi fell in step beside her as if they’d known each other a long time.
“That’s very good. What grade are you in?”
“K-5. I go to Prides Creek Christian School.”
Jules groaned inwardly. Christian school. “Where’s that?”
“It’s here. It’s a great big church.” Andi stretched her arms up. “And there’s a bell in the tower. But it’s not the one we ring for school.”
Jules bit her lip. Ah, the tall, brick building on the corner with the arched doors. New plan. Get the kid home and leave. Jules paused in front of her neighbor’s house. “Here you go. This is your house, right?”
“Nu-uh. Up there.” She pointed at the high dirt bank across the road. The tall embankment shortened toward the end of the street. This block was particularly long.
“Oh,” was all Jules could manage when she realized just how far a five-year-old had walked by herself.
“Daddy made me a play set. It’s so big. It has two slides, and one of them is a tornado. Well, not a real one that blows things down. There’s a climby thing, too. And it’s got one, two, three swings on it. Did you know the top of the tree house is green?”
Andi continued to chatter and prance as they walked along until she pointed to the dirt mound on the other side of the road.
“We gotta cross here.” Andi nodded with assurance.
“Here? There’s no houses.”
“Come on, I’ll show ya.” Andi’s little hand slid into hers. “You can climb, can’t ya?”
A jolt shot through Jules. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Here.” She pulled Jules to the wall of dirt.
The mass of soil stood about six feet high. Jules mouth dropped open as Andi deftly grasped the tree roots sticking out from the bank to climb up.
“Andi, you can’t do that. That could be someone’s yard.”
Her reply came back muffled as she climbed. “Uh-huh. It’s mine.”
Jules stood below to make sure the little girl didn’t fall. Once at the top, Andi turned and held out a hand.
“I’ll help you get up, Jules. Grab my hand.”
Jules shook her head and grinned. What kind of munchkin was she? She was like, five going on thirty.
“I’ll tell you something. I think I can do it on my own. You step back so I know you won’t fall, and I’ll climb by myself.”
Could she? How many years had it been since she actually scaled a dirt bank? Huh. Had she ever? She looked around in all directions. It wouldn’t do for the neighbors to think a looney bird lived in the old house on the corner. She returned her attention to the bank, set her tongue in the side of her mouth in determination, and grabbed hold. These tree roots better be strong.
With a mighty struggle, Jules climbed up one root then another. Andi made it look so easy. It shouldn’t be this hard. Finally, she planted her belly on the top and pulled herself across the grass. Gee, this was smart. Sweat poured from her head and dirt smeared down her arms. She’d be filthy by the time she actually stood.
Too late for second thoughts. She swung one leg up and finally, the other. Goodness. What an adventure. She rose and brushed herself off. Dirt and grass stains covered her shirt and jeans. Great.
Andi went a little further. Here it was mostly wooded, but she could make out a yard ahead. Taking a deep breath, she followed. What met her eyes as she broke the tree cover resembled paradise.
Mature trees and bushes lined the huge lawn on three sides. A giant gnarled maple stood in the center, nicely shading the slides of her daddy-made play set. An above-ground pool attached to the back of the house with a wooden deck on all four sides. To the left, a stone patio surrounded a hot tub. A large pergola arched over the brick slabs and several wisteria trees clung to the wood, heavy with periwinkle blooms.
Color exploded from every direction. Under the taller trees nestled pink and white dogwoods as well as a fuchsia redbud, all in full bloom. Yellow forsythia and red azalea bushes thrived beneath them. A canopy-covered swing stood to her left, next to a small vegetable garden situated to receive the lion’s share of sunshine. Perfect tilled rows marked with string and twigs revealed the rich dark soil.
Professional landscaping surrounded the base of the regal three-story home like a charming Christmas tree skirt. For a moment it almost seemed like paradise. A beautiful place where everything was good and right.
“See, I told you. That’s my house.”