Chapter Six
“I’ve been watching you from inside the restaurant.” The short, stout woman sat down across from Julie at El Rosal after Nate left. “You may remember me from last night. My name is Doris Schlotski and you’re a cop.”
“Yes.” Julie pushed her mug to the center of the table. She’d been thinking it was time to leave and this was her cue. She dipped her paper napkin in her water glass and began cleaning Duke’s hands.
“You’re a cop,” Doris repeated as if Julie hadn’t spoken. “But you’re also a mother.” She patted Duke on the head almost as an afterthought. “It must be hard to be a working mom.”
Julie didn’t feel like a working mom. She and her mother had been sharing the duty of taking care of Duke. Mom worked at a shoe store in the mall and had more regular hours than Julie did. And they had a flexible daycare provider in the mix.
“There’s not much crime in Harmony Valley,” Doris went on. “You might almost say the job of sheriff is a cakewalk.”
She’d bet not. No law enforcement job was easy.
Duke grinned at their unexpected visitor and said his favorite words in the world. “I Duke.”
The old woman ignored him, glancing furtively over her shoulder and around the outdoor seating area as if she was on an important spy mission and she was a very bad spy. And then Doris stretched her shoulders over the table, lowering her voice. “How would you like to be sheriff of Harmony Valley?”
“You mean, work for Nate?” That would drive them both crazy.
Still leaning forward, Doris shook her head. “You were there last night. You know what I mean. Run for the position of sheriff.”
“You’re looking for a pawn.” That wasn’t Julie. But…wouldn’t running for the job irk Nate?
It was tempting. Oh, so tempting.
“I’m looking to surprise the town council with a viable alternative.” Doris leaned back, sizing her up. “I can tell there’s no love lost between you and Nate. The title of sheriff would look good on your résumé. It’s a win-win for both of us.”
Julie kept her opinion to herself. She wanted full custody of Duke. She wanted the courage to suit up for SWAT again. She didn’t want the job of sheriff in a Podunky town where the worst lawbreaker was retired and a whiner.
She met the retired whiner’s gaze squarely. “No, thanks.”
“Think about it for a day or so and let me know.” Doris stood and then slunk away, as if she didn’t want to be seen with Julie.
Julie’s cell phone buzzed with a message from Captain Bradford: Psych eval in two days. Be there.
She replied, assuring him she would be and then sat, worrying about the test.
I have to pass.
There was too much at stake. Her reputation, for one.
Yes, she’d pass. She’d push herself through it the same way she’d pushed herself through competing against boys in baseball and men at the police academy, the same way she’d proven she could do anything a man could do on the police force. She’d set the goal in front of her and work for it one step at a time. She wouldn’t question.
Not when I’m awake anyway.
Her nightly dreams made her question. The nightmares made her doubt. All those questions and doubts turned her stomach.
I have to pass.
She imagined herself back on the force. She imagined the look of respect in her commander’s eyes. And while she was visualizing success, she imagined herself having a good night’s sleep.
A short time later, Julie pushed the stroller up and down Main Street, checking out the businesses and the bakery. That didn’t take long. Main Street had become something of a ghost town since Nate had been called away. She let Duke run off his sugar high on the grass in the town square, while she rested on the bench under the oak tree.
A petite blonde wearing a cute fuzzy pink jacket pushed her stroller across the road toward them. Her toddler had the same wild blond curls as her mother but wore pink leggings and sparkly tennis shoes instead of blue jeans and boots.
The woman waved. She was about Julie’s age and had an infectious smile. “Now that the fog’s burned off, isn’t the view of Parish Hill beautiful? It’s so clear, you can see the granite face.” She pointed to the eastern skyline.
Julie’d had a glimpse of it before, through the fog. Now the mountain that rose above the treetops was strong and sturdy.
Like me. Like I used to be.
I’ll never pass that test.
Julie needed to stop talking to herself.
“Do you want to come to the play park with us?” the blonde asked, stopping at the corner.
Duke slammed into Julie’s legs, wrapping his arms around them. “Ye-es!”
Julie was up for any activity that tired her nephew out. She strapped him in the stroller and joined the pair, walking behind them on the sidewalk.
“I’m Shelby,” the woman said over her shoulder, keeping up a pace designed to burn calories in a healthy individual. “And this is Mae.”
Julie reciprocated the introductions.
Little Mae leaned around her stroller to sneak shy glances at Duke. Duke was drinking from his sippy cup, oblivious.
“Mae...” Julie cast about her memory for why the name rang a bell. “Isn’t there a boutique on Main Street called Mae something?”
“Yes. Mae’s Pretty Things.” Shelby reached down and fluffed Mae’s blond curls. “Mae used to own the dress shop in town. I was close to her before she passed.”
“I’m so sorry.” Julie’s feet felt heavy. She stumbled over an uneven sidewalk crack.
“It happens to all of us,” Shelby said in a resigned voice. “She lived a good life and was loved.”
April had lived a good life and was loved. And I…
Julie’s wound tingled with each dragging step.
“I had to take the day off because my caregiver needed to go into Santa Rosa.” Shelby grinned over her shoulder. “Truthfully, I don’t mind a day off. Time goes by so quickly with kids. It seems like yesterday Mae was a baby.” Shelby marched on, boots ringing on pavement, heedless of the fact her speed was draining Julie. “There’s going to be a legion of toddlers at the play park, since most of us share the same sitter and most of us—although we love our babies—need to run down their batteries before lunch so we get a good naptime.”
Amen, sister.
“Mama, want pay. Mae want pay.” Mae smiled coquettishly at Duke. “Boy want pay?”
Three-word sentences. Other than “No mad words,” Duke only spoke in two-word sentences.
Mom Jealousy lifted Julie’s feet with renewed vigor. She had to keep pace with Shelby and Duke had to keep pace with Mae.
Unbidden, a memory of April resurfaced.
“Come on, Duke,” Julie encouraged, down on all fours with her nephew at one of those mommy-and-baby classes. “Crawl. You can do it. That kid over there is crawling and he’s younger than you are.”
“Take a breath, Aunt Julie,” April said from her chair nearby. She’d been too drained to participate. She wore a knit cap to hide her baldness and a benevolent smile. “Kids develop at their own pace.”
“He just needs encouragement.” Julie moved one of Duke’s chubby fists forward.
Duke collapsed on the mat, rolled onto his back and gave her a drooly grin.
“Enjoy him the way he is today,” April said with the wisdom of one who’d studied child development in college. “Otherwise, you’ll view every mom out there as competition. Mom Jealousy will eat you alive.”
Little Mae repeated her question. “Boy want pay?”
Duke remained silent, playing hard to get.
Julie had to prompt him. “Duke, do you want to play?”
He nodded, a man of few words like his father.
They turned a corner and spotted the playground. The legion turned out to be five toddlers of varying ages, shapes, and sizes.
“Kids!” Duke tried to get out of the stroller, but the lap belt held him back. “Juju.”
“Just a minute. We’re not there yet.”
Julie was sweating by the time they reached the playground. It was part of the schoolyard but looked like new with short slides and low towers to climb on. The ground was covered with plastic bark, and everything was painted in bright primary colors—red, yellow, blue, green. It was as colorful as El Rosal.
“Are you visiting or moving here?” Shelby parked her stroller near a bench outside the gate, setting the brake.
“Visiting.” Julie declined to say who. She freed Duke.
Duke hugged Julie’s leg, and then ran to Mae and hugged her. “Fend. Kids.” He moved with the exaggerated form of a racewalker to the playground entry—elbows up, booty waddling.
Shelby followed Mae and Duke. Julie hesitated. The only bench was outside the small playground. She should go inside, but she needed the rest. If Julie pushed it, she might faint. And if she fainted, Nate would think she wasn’t up to the task of raising Duke.
Internal debate over, Julie took a seat. After all, there were six moms inside. Better to sit now than collapse later.
Thirty minutes passed and a blue truck with a star on the door pulled up to the curb. Nate hopped out. He looked like any other dad in the world, if you discounted the military precision with which he moved, the lack of a soft dad body and the way his appearance made Julie’s heart beat faster.
Only because I’m afraid he won’t sign the papers.
The moms greeted Nate by name. Many of the kids waved.
Mr. Popularity had arrived.
Julie gritted her teeth. Nate didn’t want kids. He shouldn’t have fans among the toddler set.
Nate came to stand next to Julie. “When you’re done here, we can start your test. I suggest we do it at the jail. Less chance of an unwanted audience.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave a curt nod, indulging in a little self-pity. None of her revenge dreams were coming true.
Nate set both hands on the back of the bench. “What do I need? A pencil? A calculator?”
“A heart?” Julie refused to look at him.
“Got one of those,” he said, adding less cheerfully and in a voice only she could hear, “Battered and bruised though it might be.”
Like he’d ever had his heart broken. Plu-eeze.
“Somewhere, a cricket is playing a violin,” Julie deadpanned.
Nate stared down at her, that half grin on his face. But this time it was the more genuine smile he’d flashed at Terrance. “I’ve missed you, Jules.”
“The feeling isn’t mutual.” That came out more like a tease than a taunt.
He will not get in my head.
“Nay!” Duke ran over and pressed his body against the fence as if giving Nate a hug. “Me pay.” He pointed to the other children moving about the playground. “Me fends.”
“You’re playing with friends?” Nate said in a child-friendly voice, high-pitched and whimsical. “That is so cool.”
Julie envied his easy way with Duke. Of course, he didn’t worry if Duke was developing appropriate verbal skills for his age. Or if he was eating right. Or sleeping enough.
Nate left Julie and entered the playground through the gate. “Who wants a helicopter ride?” Immediately, he was swamped by children smiling and raising their hands, begging to be picked up.
Nate put them in a line—no small feat, as forming a line of toddlers was more like herding chickens. And then he began to pick them up by their wrists, whirling them around until their feet flew high above the ground and they squealed with delight.
Shelby walked over to Julie. “Nate is great with kids. I mean, he rarely talks until he gets around them. And then he’s a chatterbox.” Shelby’s tone turned curious, her gaze speculative. “Are you dating?”
“No. We used to work together.” It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“I was wondering if he’d finally get to use the wedding dress Mae left him.” Shelby’s short, blond hair fluttered in the breeze. “Has he shown it to you?”
“No,” Julie choked out, not wanting to know about Nate’s wedding dress or why he’d have one. “We’re not that close.”
“I was only wondering because my grandfather said Nate’s girlfriend was in town.” Shelby blushed. “Sorry. I guess he meant Nate’s girl-space-friend. You should ask to see the dress anyway. Mae would appreciate it being shown off.” Shelby’s smile softened. She had that delicate air about her, much as April had. “Mae had a gift. She knew how to match a dress with the right woman.”
Nate finished giving rides. Toddlers were dropping like flies—sitting in the bark, lying in the bark, stumbling to their mothers and begging to be picked up. They were all worn-out. All that is, except Duke. He climbed the short ladder to the slide, while other moms led their kids to the gate.
Nate returned to her side. “I’ve got to make my rounds. Come to the jail after lunch.”
A few of the moms hugged Nate goodbye, as if he was a noble knight in shining armor.
Boy, had he sold them a bill of goods or what?
Julie refused to be conned again.
In fact, she felt a sudden urge to run for sheriff.