Chapter Four
“Nosy people are so irritating, don’t you think? Oh, wait…HA!” - Miss Know-It-All’s Gossip Column.
Gracie usually alternated Thanksgiving and Christmas with her parents, and since this Thanksgiving she was on her own, she volunteered to deliver meals to families in need in their community. Afterwards, she usually went to Travis and Gemma’s, but after a week of listening to Gemma bitch about being on bed rest, she needed a break. She’d bought a precooked meal at Hall’s Market yesterday and had made a couple of pies for her own enjoyment. Maybe it was overkill, but at least she could make the desserts she wanted to eat, instead of the ones her mother always chose.
She’d actually been a little relieved that Darrin hadn’t asked her to go to his parents’. He’d come over the night of Gemma’s baby shower, and they’d watched a movie on the couch. Well, she’d watched; he’d kept trying to stick his hands down her pants while he’d slobbered on her neck. She just hadn’t been feeling it and had finally said she was feeling sick to her stomach. He’d been out the door faster than she could say indigestion.
It was obvious she just wasn’t that into him, but she needed him, at least until her parents left. It might have been wrong to use the guy, but if it was between stringing him along another month or having to experience the weight of disappointment in her mother’s eyes, she’d play him like a fiddle.
She was down to her last meal delivery a little after two and walked up the steps to little duplex’s door. She knocked a couple of times, and nobody answered. She had just turned around to leave when the door creaked open behind her.
She looked down into the dirty face of a little girl, just a toddler. She was wearing a short-sleeved night dress with Ariel on the front, and her hair was a tangled mess around her head. Her thumb was shoved into her mouth, and her big blue eyes stared up at Gracie apprehensively.
“Hey, sweetie. Is your mom home?”
The little girl shook her head slowly, and Gracie’s stomach knotted up. “Are you sure?”
To her surprise, the child took Gracie’s empty hand, and Gracie hesitantly followed her inside. The first thing that hit her was the smell; her eyes immediately started watering, and as she looked around the living room and tiny kitchen, she saw dirty dishes piled up, soiled diapers thrown across the floor, and the trash was overflowing.
Gracie set the food boxes on the counter and knelt down. She touched the little girl’s feet with her free hand and said in a high, singsongy voice, “My, your feet are cold! Do you have socks and boots you can wear?”
She tugged Gracie’s hand again, and it occurred to her that she was too trusting of strangers. If she had answered the door for the wrong person…
Gracie walked into the child’s room and her stomach sank. A dirty mattress sat on the barren, filthy floor with only a single blanket and pillow. There was a plastic tub filled with clothes in the corner and more diapers thrown about.
Gracie pulled her phone out, smiling reassuringly into the thin face. She might be younger than Gracie originally thought, just skinny. “Can you find some socks and pants?”
The little girl went to the basket and Gracie stared at her bony arms and legs. After dialing the Rock Canyon Police Department, she waited for someone to answer.
“Rock Canyon Police Department, how may I assist you?”
Gracie recognized Sam’s deep voice and spoke softly, “Sam, this is Gracie McAllister.”
“Hey, Gracie, Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too.” When the little girl handed her a pair of sweats, worn boots and mismatched socks, she knelt down to help. “Hey, I’m at 4113 Thistle, and I found a toddler home alone. The place is a mess, and she’s filthy. Can you send someone?”
“Yeah, I’ll call in backup and be there in two shakes.”
“Thanks.”
She set the phone down, and once the socks were in place, she smiled warmly. “I think you should put on the pants next, don’t you?”
The little girl smiled around her thumb.
Ten minutes later, the girl was bundled up as best Gracie could get her. The jacket she had was a joke, and Gracie ended up zipping her into her own coat. Although the little sweetheart didn’t exactly smell like a rose, Gracie forgot all about the order as she felt the bones of the child’s shoulder’s poking out. Her eyes pricked as the girl snuggled into her chest, realizing that someone had been starving her.
“Can you tell me your name?” Gracie whispered.
She didn’t answer.
“Don’t you have a name, pipsqueak?”
Gracie stepped outside just as two patrol cars pulled up in front of the house, and Gracie walked down the steps carrying her. The little girl still didn’t answer, and as Sam approached, the tiny body started to tremble.
“Hey, are you okay? That’s just Officer Sam. He’s really nice.”
Sam stopped a few feet away and smiled that wide, good old boy grin. He had a black beanie pulled over his thinning hair and a heavy police coat on. His breath fogged in front of him as he said, “Hey, Pumpkin. You don’t gotta be scared of me. I’m just a big kitty cat. Meow.”
Gracie felt the little girl bury her head into Gracie’s chest painfully, and she shrugged at Sam.
Rubbing the think back under her jacket, she whispered, “Why don’t you and I go sit in my car, turn the heat up high, and I’ll find some cartoons for you on my phone.”
Gracie passed by Officer Quinn Morgan, who she’d had one terrible date with, and smiled. He was a good guy though, so they’d decided they were better off friends.
“Hey, Quinn,” she murmured, aware of the terror radiating from the toddler. It was so strange that she hadn’t showed any fear of Gracie at the door, but was now petrified.
Quinn nodded. “Gracie. What were you doing here?”
“Delivering Thanksgiving dinners for the church.”
Quinn grinned at her, his eyes twinkling. “Aren’t you just Mother Teresa?”
Gracie rolled her eyes, and when she opened the car door, she unzipped her coat, but the little girl didn’t want to let go.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m just going to turn the car on.” Gracie put the keys in and thanked God the engine was still warm. Hot air blew out of the vents, and she slid into the driver’s seat, closing the door behind her. The toddler stayed glued to her lap, and Gracie moved the seat back to give them more room.
She searched through Hulu and found some Disney show about a cat that was a sheriff. The child just sat there, her thumb in her mouth, staring at the screen quietly. Gracie wished she had a brush to get the hair out of her dirty face, but could imagine how detangling that mop would hurt. Softly, she stroked the little girl’s back and arms, waiting on Sam.
A few minutes later, Sam and Quinn came out, and she rolled down her window. Tiny arms wrapped around her neck in a death grip and she mumbled low, soothing words.
“We need to bring her down to the station. Wanna follow us?” Sam asked.
“Sure, but I don’t know if she’ll let me go.”
“Have you gotten her name yet?” Sam asked.
“No, she hasn’t said a word.”
“I got a kids’ seat in the car. Hang tight while I grab it.” Sam jogged back to his car, and Gracie pulled back enough to brush the little one’s hair back off her face.
“Are you hungry, sweetie?”
Gracie could tell by the hollow of her cheeks that she was, but she still didn’t want to let go.
“I promise you, I’m going to take care of you and keep you safe.”
* * *
At the police station a half hour later, Gracie watched in horror as tiny hands shoved hunks of banana and donuts into the little girl’s mouth. Quinn had stopped off at Hall’s per her request, and picked up a couple things a child might like.
When the cheeks were stuffed so full, she couldn’t even close her mouth, Gracie hooked a finger inside and pulled some of the chewed globs out. “Hey, baby, slow down or you’re going to choke. I promise, no one is going to take this away from you. Take small bites.”
Sam came into the room, and Gracie could tell from the grim look on his face that whatever he’d found out wasn’t good.
“The woman renting the duplex is Rita Faulkner, but she doesn’t have any kids. I’ve got a call into social services, but being a holiday, who knows when they’ll get out this way.”
“So, what’s she supposed to do?”
“I can keep her here until social services arrives…” Sam trailed off as if there were more options, but he couldn’t think of them.
Gracie’s gaze met those big eyes, and her heart broke into a million pieces. “What if I keep her with me? Until social services can get out here? I can feed her and give her a bath. She’ll be more comfortable with me than here.”
“Ah, Gracie, I know your heart’s in the right place, but I can’t—”
“Why? You know me, Sam. Why not let me make a scared child just a little more comfortable?”
Sam scratched the back of his neck hesitantly, then nodded. “All right, I’ll let social services know she’s got a safe haven for the night. I’m sure they’d appreciate the load off.”
Sam left the room, and Gracie smiled, running her hand over the soft skin of the child’s cheek. “Looks like you and I are going to have a slumber party, pipsqueak.”
* * *
Eric pulled into Hall’s Market parking lot just before they closed, and two things stopped him in his tracks.
Gracie was right across the aisle, chatting with Hope Weathers, who was putting a box in the back of Gracie’s car.
And the second was that Gracie was balancing a dirty child on her hip.
Curious, Eric crossed the way, watching out for the icy ground. “Hey, ladies.”
Hope turned and gave him a wide smile, her blonde hair up in a messy bun. “Hey, Eric. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.” When he turned his attention to Gracie and the kid, the little girl buried her face in Gracie’s neck. “Who’s this, Gracie Lou?”
“My new friend,” was all she said before addressing Hope. “Thanks for bringing those down. I’ll wash them and give them right back to you.”
“It’s no hurry. Emily is grown out of them, and we aren’t having anymore, so whenever.”
Eric’s brow furrowed. What in the hell is going on?
Eric noticed the grocery bags in the back of the car, and the box of diapers. “You baby-sitting or something?”
Hope laughed. “I’ll let you get her in the car and deal with Curious George over here. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Hope walked to her car, and Gracie went to the passenger side door, calling over her shoulder, “Close that for me, will you?”
Eric’s jaw about dropped, but he did it anyway.
He heard the kid crying, and Gracie’s voice went up an octave. “Oh, don’t cry, love. I’m going to start the car, and we’ll be home in just a few minutes.”
She closed the door and actually walked past him to the driver’s side and climbed in. He approached and knocked on her window, but she didn’t bother rolling it down until the car was running.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Are you going to fill me in? Who’s the kid?”
Gracie arched her brow at him. “I’m sorry, are you my father? Boyfriend? Husband?”
“No, but I—”
“Then I don’t have to tell you anything.”
She slowly rolled up the window, and just before she put the car in reverse, she stuck her tongue out at him.
Eric stood there dumbfounded.
What in the ever-loving shit was that about?