Chapter 7 - Rhys
After the girls get ready, I drive them into the nearest town center, not sure if I should take Sadie to places owned by pack members or ordinary humans.
Where would she feel more comfortable? I can’t risk her exposing us, so it might be better if I only take her to places I know.
“Rhys, could you take me to a department store or something?” Sadie asks, almost through gritted teeth.
“Sure, what do you need?”
“Some clothes. I can’t go job-hunting like this.”
“Oh,” I say. “No problem.”
I look sideways at her, trying not to stare at her.
I thought she just liked comfy old clothes. Am I missing something here?
“Clothes were left for us,” Sadie says, filling in the blanks. “I just don’t like mine.”
“Oh,” I say again, suddenly realizing I made no provisions for either of them and trusted the pack to take care of it. “That’s fine,” I say. “You should have told me. I can get you anything you need.”
“I like to take care of myself,” she replies.
We drive in silence for a few minutes, and I wonder how I should respond to that.
I want her to feel comfortable here, but at the same time, she is technically my prisoner. If it wasn’t for the ritual, I would never have seen her again.
The thought chills me to the bone. I’ve grown so close to my daughter over the last week, I can’t imagine life without her now, and not being able to tell her the truth is beginning to eat away at me.
When can I tell her? What should I tell her? I don’t even know what’s going to happen…
When we pull up at the shopping center, Cassie bounces out of the car, looking beautiful in a pale blue dress with frills. When Sadie gets out, I finally take a good look at her faded corduroy slacks and flannel shirt.
Impossible to tell if they deliberately dressed her like this or just didn’t care. Either way, someone clearly made an effort with Cassie.
We go into the department store, and Sadie heads for the women’s section while Cassie drags me towards the toys. I don’t want to split us up, but Sadie says I should take Cassie and let her shop.
She wouldn’t run out on her daughter, would she? I don’t think so, but I don’t want to let her out of my sight, either.
Finally, I let Cassie drag me over to the toys and spend some time watching her press all the buttons on the noisy ones and bounce up and down with excitement at the resulting chaos. To my surprise, she likes dinosaurs and fancy model cars.
“I thought you’d like dolls and pretty things,” I say, pointing at the girls’ toys.
“Ick,” Cassie says, making a face. “I like fast cars and big, scary dinosaurs a lot more. I like your car, Rhys.”
She frowns a little, and I ruffle her hair.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“It’s weird. I’ve never called a grown-up by their first name before, except my babysitter.”
“That’s okay, kiddo. I don’t mind being called Rhys.”
She smiles and hugs me, and I try to hide my troubled expression.
How do I tell her she’s my daughter? Has she even asked about her father, and what did Sadie tell her?
“Hi, guys,” Sadie says, approaching from behind me. “Are you having fun?”
“Sure,” I answer, turning to face her.
When I see her striding towards me, I’m so shocked, my heart actually skips a beat.
Oh my God.
Sadie is wearing a new outfit, a knee-length, pleated skirt in shimmering pale blue.
Her white blouse hugs her waist and frames her hips, the neckline showing just the smallest hint of cleavage.
Her hair has been brushed back from her face and is pinned to the side with an attractive wire clip, and her new white sandals have just enough heel to show off her elegant legs.
“I’ve got the tags here,” she says, showing them to me. “And I’ve only chosen a few more items. I don’t want to spend all your money.”
“I don’t mind,” I say. “You can buy anything you want.”
She shakes her head. “I’ll wait until I have a job and get what I need. Don’t worry about it.”
“You can buy me something,” Cassie says boldly.
“Okay,” I reply, grinning. “What would you like?”
Cassie drags me over to the dinosaurs, finally choosing one that roars and has flashing red lights for eyes. We leave the store, and I buy a small bag of donuts for us to snack on while Sadie goes around and introduces herself at a few shops.
Even though I knew Sadie was educated and well-spoken, I’m still surprised by how smoothly she handles herself.
Her manner is polite and professional, but warm and friendly enough to genuinely connect.
I can see that people immediately like her, and in ordinary circumstances, she’d have no trouble finding a job.
But it all seems to fall apart when people ask about her experience. Sadie tries to answer with confidence, but when her only answers are “waiting tables, cleaning, ironing,” or similar, people shake their heads regretfully, and Sadie walks away, looking like she’s barely holding back tears.
Cassie notices none of this, happily munching on donuts and taking in the sights. When we stop for a few moments, I have to look around for a while before I realize what Sadie is looking at.
The bank? Really?
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Sadie says softly. “I could probably kick ass in there, you know. I’m better qualified than most financial analysts in the market. At college, I had a knack for numbers no one could ever match.”
“That’s right,” I reply. “You were studying economics or something, weren’t you?”
She laughs softly. “Something like that, yeah. I dreamed about working in gleaming skyscrapers in major cities, overseeing billion-dollar deals and being on the front line of cutthroat competition. It was my big dream.”
“And you really can’t do it now?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s been years since I was at college, and I never completed the final degree. No one would hire me with that resume.”
“And you ended up… cleaning?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes,” she says, looking me right in the eye. “I did any job I could to support my baby girl. I’ve happily worked three jobs at a time to pay the rent and make sure I provide for her.”
“I see,” is all I can say.
Sadie doesn’t give me a chance to ask another question, just heads back towards the food court. I can tell by the look on her face that she’s disgusted.
“I guess it’s back to cleaning or serving,” she mutters. “It won’t be so bad if it’s part-time.”
“Actually, wait,” I say. “I know someone who needs a hand. It’s not finance—but you’d probably be in charge of the books there.”
“Oh?” she asks, looking hopeful.
“Come on,” I say, picking up Cassie and holding her against my chest. She’s tired from all the walking and quickly falls asleep.
I lead Sadie outside, down a quiet side street. The buildings are far older in this section of town, and a hush falls around us as the more modern amenities fall away.
Halfway down the street, I take Sadie into a modest, single-story building. She tilts her head back to look at the old stone architecture, admiring the structure of the foyer. I walk up to the old wooden desk at the front and ring the bell.
“Wait on!” a voice calls. “I’m on my way.”
A couple of minutes later, an old, chubby woman shuffles to the front, adjusting her glasses and peering at me.
“Ah, Rhys!” she says. “Nice to see you. If I had a little help around here, I wouldn’t have had to keep you waiting.”
“That’s what I’m here about, Fern,” I reply. “This is Sadie, and she’s looking for work.”
“Ah.” Fern fiddles with her glasses again. “You like books?”
“I do,” Sadie says, smiling. “Is this a library?”
“Kind of,” Fern says. “I manage historical artifacts. Mostly books, yes, but items as well.”
“That sounds interesting,” Sadie says. “What would my duties be?”
“Damn, girl, if you know anything about modern accounting systems, it would be a gift from the lord himself.”
“I do!” Sadie laughs. “It’s actually what I’m certified for.”
“Then you can come in a few days a week and take care of all the computer stuff,” Fern says. “And leave me alone with my dusty relics.”
“You’ve got a deal,” Sadie says, reaching over to shake her hand.
Fern shakes, nods, then grunts as she turns around and shuffles away.
“She’s a little odd,” I say. “But nice. And she does need help.”
“I like her,” Sadie says, smiling. “Is she a—I mean, is she like you?”
“Yes,” I reply, giving her a meaningful look.
I want Sadie to integrate with the pack. Fern’s a bit of an outcast, so this could end up going really well.
“When should I start?” Sadie asks, looking into the doorway on the other side of the desk as if to call Fern back.
“Just come in tomorrow. Fern won’t keep strict hours. I’ll drop you off on my way to work.”
“Where do you work?”
“I’m glad you asked. I’ll show you.”
We walk back around to the car, and Cassie stays asleep in my arms the whole time. Holding my little girl in my arms is such a simple pleasure, and I never thought anything so small could make me so happy.
This marriage is turning into a very complicated mess. The council thinks getting rid of Sadie will be easy because they don’t really care about Cassie—but I do.
By the time we drive around to my shop, Cassie is awake again and eagerly looking out the window.
“Wow!” she says. “Look at all the cars!”
“That’s right, Cassie,” I reply. “This is my shop. I fix cars.”
“That’s an actual job?” she asks with a kind of wonder only a three-year-old can express.
“Yep, it sure is. Want to take a look?”
Cassie bounces up and down enthusiastically as I park my Viper in my personal spot, then take her into the shop floor. I introduce Cassie to a couple of my mechanics and show her the engines of the cars up on the blocks. Then I take her to see the fully finished vehicles waiting to be picked up.
“So shiny,” she says, running her hand across the bright purple finish of a Subaru WXR8. “This one’s very fast.”
“Yes, it is,” I laugh, captivated by her enjoyment. “I like to fix them up to make them go as fast as they possibly can.”
“That’s awesome,” Cassie says, shaking her head. “You’re cool, Rhys!”
A wave of affection rushes through me, and I pick her up, cuddling her against my chest.
“I’m glad we came to live with you,” she says, and the intensity of my feelings almost pushes me to tears. I keep my head on her shoulder as we walk towards the front of the shop, struggling to get myself under control as we approach Sadie.
“You didn’t want to come in?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to get my new white sandals smudged with oil. You had a good time, though?”
“I sure did!” Cassie says, bouncing in my arms. “Rhys fixes up cars and makes them go fast!”
“That sounds great,” Sadie replies, ruffling her hair.
“Hey,” I say, knowing I’m pushing it but unable to stop myself. “It’s starting to get late. What do you guys think about dinner?”
“Yay!” Cassie almost shrieks, but I see a look I can’t identify flash across Sadie’s face.
I didn’t do this in an attempt to use Cassie against her. I didn’t even realize the impact my words would have.
Sadie gives me a look, but smiles for her daughter.
“What would you like to eat, baby?”
“Nuggets and spaghetti!” Cassie declares.
“I know just the place,” I say.
We walk back to the car, and even though Sadie looks tense, I really don’t think she’s upset about going to dinner.
I take us to a little family diner with a play area, and Cassie runs off immediately to join the other kids.
Sadie and I sit down, and I order some wine when the menus are brought out.
“Is everything okay?” I ask her. “I should have made sure it was all right with you before saying it in front of Cassie.”
“It’s okay,” Sadie says quietly. “She’s having a great time.”
I follow her gaze to see Cassie sliding down the big slippery slide, piled into a crowd of kids who are all cheering and screaming. When they hit the bottom, they run as if they’re one many-headed beast, charging towards the climbing net.
“It’s great watching her play like this,” Sadie says, her voice thick with emotion.
“I just want to make her happy,” I say.
Sadie looks up at me, her eyes even darker than usual, and I can’t read her mood. We order food for ourselves and Cassie. Our little girl charges back to the table as soon as we’re served to gulp down cold lemonade and dig into her spaghetti.
As the night goes on, I can see Sadie settling in and enjoying herself. She doesn’t rush through the night, encouraging Cassie to go back and play and order more food if she likes. A few times, she even seems to forget the situation and relax into conversation with me.
I could almost forget that all this is just for show. None of this is real, but I think I’m starting to wish it was.