Page 29 of The Fear
Hala waved whenever she saw Wynnie, but…Wynnie’s mother didn’t exactly like that.
She’d had it out for Hala since that day she, Chantal, and the Hiller sisters had rescued Grady from Jessica’s evil clutches. They’d had adutyto do it. Grady was so clueless with women, they’d been afraid Jessica would get her claws into him before he could escape.
Wynnie and her little brother were playing now. Hala watched the kids as she ate. Wynnie’s little brother reminded her so much of Ryan.
Hala definitely wanted more nieces and nephews and kids of her own someday. Before too long. She wasn’t getting any younger, here.
Wynnie’s ball rolled. Onto Hala’s patio. She came running over, her face all excited. “Hi, Mith Hanan.”
“Hi Miss Wynnie. Are you having fun?”
“Yes. But we have to go. We’re going to Nana’s tonight, so my mommy can have a date with Billy.” A look of worry went over the little girl’s beautiful face. “Nana will bring me to school tomorrow. I won’t be late. It’s library day.”
Tuesdays and Fridays were library days for the kindergarteners. Wynnie loved it.
“I see. I’m glad you are going to Nana’s. That sounds really fun.” And Marie Glass was probably a lot more fun to be around than Jessica.
“It is. We go to Nana’s a lot when it’s Mommy’s time to have us. Mommy has lots and lots of headaches and has to sleep. What are you eating?”
Wynnie was always talking about food and what she wanted to eat. She had the lunch menu in the cafeteria memorized, too.
“A sandwich, with a pickle.”
“Yummy. Daddy lets me get the pickles when he takes us to the diner. And he keeps pickles in our fridge for me. As a snack with my cheese cubes and crackers. BJ gets goldfish crackers and apple sauce. He doesn’t like pickles yet. We both get the teddy bear grahams. Those are the best. And raisins. Or the cranberry ones.”
“Do you eat pickles at Mommy’s?”
“Not really. At Nana’s we do, though. Mommy just forgets to buy them all the time. Daddy never forgets. We always have lots of food there.”
Then Jessica was yelling for her daughter. And Hala’s little neighbor took off, clutching her bright purple ball in her hands, calling her brother’s name. Leaving Hala to watch. And wonder.
Something…something just wasn’trightwith Wynnie’s family. Hala just couldn’t figure out what it was.
20
Brenton feltlike a damned fool walking through the school Wednesday evening. He’d made a point of setting up a parent/teacher conference with Miss Hanan a few days after he’d dropped Wynnie off the last time.
His attorney had pointed out that he had every right to know what was going on with his daughter’s education. And what kind ofproblemsthe school might have noticed. His attorney was building the case for him. He wasn’t giving Brenton platitudes—or promises.
There wasn’t any way for him to guarantee Brenton would get custody, but…he said that with a fair judge—not that punk-ass Judge King—they might have a real shot of changing things for the kids for the better. Tom Walters, his attorney, had said something about a new judge in town now, who was known for fairness—and being exceptionally protective of young children.
Brenton was afraid to get his hopes up this time. He’d tried to get full custody of the kids twice before—but King had always ruled against him. Like…the guyalwaysruled in Jessica’s favor. No matter what.
Even the day she’d shown up for court smelling like alcohol and almost puked all over Courtroom B.
Brenton had been sure he’d win that day. But no. She’d walked out of there with one hundred dollars more in support a month. Jessica had kept the kids from him for two months after that. Gloating.
Brenton was so sick and tired of all her damned games. Shouldn’t she be putting the kids’ needs above her own petty bullshit?
He’d always despised parents who took their kids and ran with them, but…since he and Jessica had split, he understood it. So much.
Especially for the parents who did it just because they were protecting their kids.
Not that he would ever do that—like it or not, Jessica was their mother, and they needed her in their lives in some way—but damn, did he finally understand it.
He found room 12A easily—he’d been there many times before. He knocked and stepped inside.
The room smelled like berries and flowers and drying paint. Wynnie’s teacher was right there.
