Page 35 of Colorado Christmas Carol
“I’m great! Are you learning a lot here for your job?” She grimaced. “Sorry. I guess you don’t really need to learn a lot more. You’re awfully smart!” She looked up at him and grinned.
He was breathless. He’d been undervalued by most people in his life, abused by some, ignored by others. But here were these two females, a child and a woman, and they both looked up to him. In fact, they liked him, and it showed. He didn’t know how to respond to praise. He’d rarely ever had any.
“You’re embarrassing the man, Mellie,” Duke chided, but gently.
“No!” Dean exclaimed, catching his breath. “Oh, no, it’s not that. You see, I don’t . . . well, most people don’t like me . . .”
“Why not?” Mellie asked belligerently. “They must not be nice people, then.”
“Absolutely,” Essa agreed. “You’re just different. Smarter than most people, and that makes them jealous, so they ignore you or put you down.”
Duke’s eyebrows arched. “You’re more perceptive than most people.”
“Indeed you are,” Dean added. He smiled at her. “I wish I’d known you—someone like you,” he corrected gently, “when I was young.”
She cocked her head, puzzled, but smiling. He looked young. Perhaps he felt older than he looked. “Thank you. But, why?”
He drew in a breath. “That’s a question with a very long answer.”
“And I’m starved. Lunch?” Duke asked his companions.
“Oh, Daddy, you’re always starved,” Mellie teased.
“Said the girl who ate a whole sub sandwich that she was supposed to half with me,” he muttered.
She grinned and hugged him. “You’re just the best daddy! And I was really hungry,” she added with a chuckle.
Dean, watching, grimaced. It was acutely painful to him to see what a normal family was like. It pointed out poignantly what he’d missed, what he’d lost. His eyes went from Essa to Mellie, and he hated what was inside him, what would be dangerous to them. No matter what, he had to keep himself together. He didn’t dare let loose the demons inside. He had to fight them . . . !
“Are you okay?” Mellie asked him, worried by the expression on his face.
The child’s concern hurt him. He managed a smile for her. “I’m fine. I’m really fine,” he emphasized. “I’m just starving,” he teased.
She grinned at him.
He grinned back, touched.
* * *
They ate sandwiches and then ice cream at a table in the hotel where the workshop was being held.
“This stuff is really interesting,” Essa said between bites. “I’ve read about things like blood spatter and facial reconstruction for years, but it’s different when you get to see it in person.”
“It really is,” Duke said. “I used to do it for a living. Sometimes I miss that part of my life. Now all I do is track down fleeing fugitives and hunt deadbeat husbands,” he added with faint distaste.
Dean seemed to relax a little as he said that. He laughed softly. “I suppose that would get boring. What do you do?”
“I’m with a detective agency,” he said, sighing. “I thought it would be as exciting as working for the bureau.” He looked up and grimaced. “It isn’t.”
“His boss is mean to him, too,” Mellie said belligerently.
“Mellie,” her dad cautioned.
“But he is,” she argued. “You shouldn’t let him yell at you, Daddy. You should yell back.”
“Yelling rarely solves problems,” Dean commented absently. “In fact, it often precipitates them.”
“Absolutely,” Duke agreed. “And neither does beating a child,” he added coldly, his eyes on his coffee.
