Page 7 of Defending What is Mine

Chapter Four

Sam:Present—January

From the front door, I watch the red and yellow lights flash as the bus slows to a stop at the end of the driveway. The door opens, and a few seconds later Vanessa appears at the bus driver’s side before bouncing down the steps with her lunchbox in hand.

After carefully navigating the jump from the last step to the ground, she looks up and waves wildly with her free hand as she runs toward the house. “Hi, Mommy! How was your day?”

Bristling against the cold, I push open the storm door and stoop to greet her as she runs into my arms, knocking me off balance in the process. This. Right here. This is what I’ve needed all day. Since about thirty seconds after she climbed the steps of that bus this morning, I’ve spent the day—my only day off this week no less—impatiently watching the clock, anxiously looking forward to my call with Jack tonight. I’ve been worrying about it since I woke up this morning. In our last email, he mentioned he had something he wanted to talk to me about. Sheesh. Is it a good something? Or a bad something? I hate how easy it is to misinterpret the context behind someone’s words when they’re written. Please let it be a good something.

“Come on,” I say, picking us both off the ground so I can close the door and stop the cold leaking into the house. “How about I make some hot chocolate and you tell me about your day?”

Vanessa smiles at the offer as she drops her backpack beside the couch. But her head falls when she hands me her lunchbox. “I’m sorry, Mommy. There was a problem with the yogurt and it spilled all over.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry too.” I squat down to look her in the eye. “Well then, why don’t you make the hot chocolate while I get this cleaned up? And you can tell me all the neat things you learned today.”

When she’s confident I’m not upset, Vanessa returns to her normal, happy self, bouncing up and down as she follows me into the kitchen. “It was okay, I guess. Madison didn’t swing with me at morning recess. But this new boy did. His name is Billy and he has blonde hair, too. Well, it’s kind of red and kind of blonde.” Vanessa runs her finger across her nose. “And he has lots of freckles,” she says, fighting a smile.

“It’s nice that you met a new friend, but I was really asking what you learned in the classroom.”

“Oh.” Vanessa brings her finger to her lips and taps as she thoughtfully replays the events of her day, searching for something worth sharing. With the smile that’s painted across her face, I’d guess she’s still caught up thinking about the freckle-faced boy from the playground. At least until we hear the front door burst open then slam shut.

“Mol, is that you?” I yell from the sink.

“Yeah,” she responds. “Sorry, the wind caught the door. Are you in the kitchen? Let me get these boots off and I’ll be in. Hey, I saw your text. Are you still freaking out about Jack?”

Damnit, girl. Not with Nessa around.

Vanessa’s finger falls, and she looks at me with concern. “Mommy, what’s the matter with Jack? Did something happen to him?” she asks, her voice quivering.

Thanks, Mol. Thanks a lot.

I slip into fix-it mode, smiling broadly and speaking brightly. “No, it’s nothing sweetheart. Not that I know of. It’s just that I haven’t heard from him in a few days. And I’ve been missing him more than usual.”

She nods along but doesn’t seem convinced in the least. Might be time to upgrade my bag of Mom tricks.

“Who are you talking…?” When Mollie enters the kitchen, her eyes immediately land on Vanessa, causing her mouth to fall open and her words to halt. “Oh...Hey babe. I didn’t realize you were home from school already,” she says, while offering me an apologetic smile.

“Nessa was just about to make some hot chocolate and tell me about her day. Want to sit and join us?” I ask, with wide eyes (emphasizing the importance of a topic change.)

Mollie nods eagerly. “I could sure go for something warm and tasty. Would you mind making a cup for me too, Doll?”

Vanessa smiles brightly. “Sure, Aunt Mollie.”

I set the lunchbox upside down to dry in the sink and scan the counter for supplies: coffee cups, cocoa mix, and milk. Looks good.

“Sweetheart, I need to show Aunt Mollie something in my room, are you okay to mix up the cocoa yourself? Remember to microwave for a couple minutes at a time and then check, okay?”

Vanessa bobs her head as she begins pouring milk into the mugs.

I slide my arm through Mollie’s and drag her out of the kitchen. When we reach the safety of the hall, she begins whisper-apologizing like a crazy woman.

I wave my hand to dismiss her words as we walk toward my bedroom. “It’s fine. How would you have known?”

“Well, I’m sorry just the same.” Mollie closes the door behind her. “So, what did you need to show me?”

“Huh?” I blink in surprise. “Oh, nothing. I just didn’t want Nessa to overhear. She’s asked about Jack a couple of times in the last few days, and I don’t want her worrying, too.”

Mollie nods in understanding. “So? Have you heard anything?”

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