Chapter Two #2
“No,” she said with surprising firmness. “They wouldn’t have. Most people don’t want to get involved.” She ducked her head. “Or just don’t care.”
Before I could respond, Ms. Winters stepped back into the room, her tablet still clutched to her chest like a shield. Her eyes darted between Ms. Jans and me, clearly surprised to find me still there.
“I forgot to mention,” she said, her tone professionally detached but her eyes cold. “I’ll need contact information for Lily’s father. The paperwork you filled out listed him as ‘unknown.’”
Ms. Jans stiffened again. “As I’ve explained before, there is no father in the picture. It’s just Lily and me.”
Ms. Winters made a small note on her clipboard. “I see. And how do you manage childcare while working your… two jobs, was it?”
The question was posed innocently enough, but I caught the implication. Two jobs meant time away from Lily, meant potential neglect, meant more marks against Ms. Jans in whatever report Ms. Winters was compiling.
“I have a neighbor who watches her after school until I get home from my day job,” Ms. Jans replied, her voice tight. “My evening job allows me to work from home most nights.”
Ms. Winters nodded without looking up from her notes. “And this neighbor, they’re qualified to handle a child with Lily’s frequent medical issues?”
Ms. Jans’ face flushed. “Mrs. Abernathy raised five children of her own. She knows to call me immediately if Lily so much as sneezes.”
Ms. Winters made another note, then finally looked up, her gaze landing on me.
“Mr. Kingston,” she said, her voice taking on a warning tone, “I should remind you again your interactions here are strictly limited to your assigned duties.” She glanced at my mop bucket, still sitting abandoned in the hallway.
“And I’m sure those duties don’t include socializing with vulnerable minors. ”
My jaw clenched, but I kept my expression neutral. Getting angry would only make things worse for Lily and her mother. “Just finishing up my section, ma’am,” I said evenly. “I didn’t want to seem rude, especially not to the girl. Seems she’s had a hard enough time of it.”
Ms. Winters looked frustrated but nodded, then turned back to Ms. Jans. “I’ll be speaking with Dr. Samson about Lily’s medical history, and I’ll also need to schedule a home visit.”
“I understand,” Ms. Jans replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
With one final glance at me, Ms. Winters left the room again. Yeah, message received.
Ms. Jans stood frozen in place for a long moment, staring at the door. Then, as if a string had been cut, her rigid posture collapsed. She sank into the chair beside Lily’s bed, her shoulders hunching forward as her composure crumbled.
“Mommy?” Lily’s voice was small and worried.
“It’s OK, baby,” Ms. Jans said, visibly fighting to keep her voice steady. She turned her face away from her daughter, but I could see the tears welling in her eyes, the trembling of her lower lip as she struggled to maintain control. “It’s all going to be fine. We’re fine.”
I stood awkwardly by the door, unsure whether to stay or go. This felt private, a moment I had no right to witness. But leaving now felt wrong too, like abandoning them both to a weight too heavy to bear alone when I could shoulder everything.
Ms. Jans pressed her palms against her eyes, taking deep shuddering breaths. When she lowered her hands, her face was composed again, though her eyes remained red-rimmed and glistening.
“I’m just tired, Lily-bug,” she said, reaching out to smooth her daughter’s hair back from her forehead. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
The lie hung in the air between them, necessary but transparent. Even Lily could tell, her small face solemn as she reached out her uninjured hand to pat her mother’s arm.
“Don’t be sad, Mommy,” she said. “Cash can sing to you too. It helps.”
Ms. Jans laughed, a broken sound dangerously close to a sob. She glanced up at me, embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she remembered my presence.
“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “You don’t need to be involved in this mess. Thank you for being kind to Lily.”
The smart move would have been to have nodded, wished them well, and walked away.
Would have guaranteed I stayed out on parole and with this fucking job intact.
But the defeat in her eyes reminded me too much of my own mother, fighting a system designed to work against her, and I found myself rooted to the spot, unable to turn away.
This small, fierce woman fighting for her daughter pulled at me. I really thought any soft part of my heart had died in that fucking bar fight years ago. So, as much as I knew I needed to leave, I couldn’t.
“Her dad in the picture? Is there anyone you need me to call for you?”
She shook her head. “No. Her father” -- she gave me a hesitant look --”is in prison. At least, the last I knew. And no. There’s no one.”
“I can give you a minute,” I said, my hand on the door. “But I’ll be right outside. I’ll be available if you need an extra set of hands.”
“No,” Ms. Jans said, surprising me. She wiped her eyes quickly with the back of her hand. “Actually, I…” She glanced at Lily, then back at me. “Could you stay? Just for a few minutes.”
I stepped fully into the room, keeping the door open. I kept my gaze on the woman as she kept her head down. Finally, she took a breath. “I just need a couple minutes where I know I’m not going to get blindsided by myself.”
“Mommy’s sad because the lady thinks she hurts me,” Lily announced with blunt honesty. “But Mommy never hurts me.”
“Look,” I said, addressing Lily’s mother.
“I might be able to help,” I said, the words surprising me as much as her.
“I know a lawyer who specializes in family cases. She works with the women’s shelter my club protects.
” I gestured to my cut, the Kiss of Death patch prominent on the leather.
“She helps them navigate the system, fights for them when no one else will.”
Ms. Jans stiffened, her spine straightening. “I don’t need charity. We’re managing.”
“This isn’t charity,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “Lana, the lawyer, she doesn’t do handouts. But she knows how to fight the system on its own terms. And she might know doctors who could help, specialists who could look at Lily’s case.”
“Why would you help us? You don’t even know us.” Suspicion edged her voice, not unreasonable given her circumstances.
“Because Ms.-Winters-social-worker already wrote me into her report,” I said with a shrug, only partially lying. “Might as well earn my mention.”
The real reason was more complicated, tied to memories of my mother’s struggles, to the look in Lily’s eyes when she’d asked for a song, to something in this woman’s fierce determination resonated with me. But those weren’t things I could easily put into words, especially to a stranger.
Ms. Jans opened her mouth, likely to refuse again, when Lily suddenly extended her small hand toward me. Her thin fingers reached across the space between us, the stuffed rabbit clutched in her grip.
“This is Mr. Flopsy,” she said solemnly. “He helps me be brave when I’m scared. Maybe he can help you not be scared too.”
I looked at the ratty stuffed animal, then at Lily’s earnest face. With careful movements, I took the rabbit from her, aware of the significance of being entrusted with something so precious.
“That’s very kind of you, Lily,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “But I think you need Mr. Flopsy more than I do right now.”
“You can borrow him,” she insisted. “Until you come back.” Oh, the kid was good. I might have grinned at her if she didn’t look so earnest and hopeful.
Ms. Jans watched this exchange. The wariness in her eyes didn’t disappear completely, but it softened to a more cautious consideration. “Your lawyer friend,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady. “Would she really be willing to talk to me? No strings attached?”
“Lana doesn’t do strings,” I replied. “She helps because she can. I can tell you from experience she’s a good person to have on your side.” I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. “I can call her now if you want. Just to talk. You don’t have to decide anything today.”
Ms. Jans looked at her daughter, then back at me. I could see the internal struggle playing across her face, pride warring with desperation, caution battling with the need for an ally.
“Yes,” she said finally, the word barely audible. “I’d appreciate the help.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of her tentative trust. As I dialed Lana’s number, I glanced at Lily, who smiled at me from her hospital bed.
The stuffed rabbit sat between us on the edge of her blanket, a small bridge across a widening gap of uncertainty.
I winked at her which made the child smile wider.
“Thank you,” Ms. Jans whispered as the phone began to ring. “I’m Eliza, by the way. Eliza Jans.”
“Johnny Kingston,” I replied, offering my real name instead of my road name for once.
As I spoke with Lana on the phone, setting up a meeting with Eliza to discuss her situation further, Eliza sat by Lily’s bedside, her expression a mix of relief and apprehension. She watched her daughter with love and a fierce protectiveness.
Lily, in turn, clutched Mr. Flopsy close to her chest, her eyes still shining with the innocent belief a simple stuffed rabbit could bring courage to those in need.
As Lana confirmed she was on her way, I caught Eliza’s gaze and offered her a reassuring smile.
It was a small gesture, but I could see the gratitude in her eyes.
After ending the call, I turned to Eliza, who was now holding Lily’s hand, the connection between them palpable. “Lana’s on her way. Give everything to her straight, and she’ll do everything she can to help.”
Eliza nodded, her gratitude evident. “Thank you, Cash.”
I gave them both a lopsided grin I knew charmed women all over Nashville. “Thank you, Lily, for being so kind and sharing Mr. Flopsy with me.”
As I prepared to leave, Eliza stood up, her demeanor more determined now, her resolve steeled by the prospect of having someone by her side in the challenges ahead. “Thank you for this,” she said, her voice steady. “I won’t forget your kindness, Cash.”
I took out a card with Haven’s number on it.
“This is the number to New Beginnings Women’s Shelter.
We call it Haven, but New Beginnings is how it’s listed.
” I cleared my throat. “If you need to get a hold of me or Lana, you can call the number on the card and they’ll take care of everything.
” I wanted to give her my number but didn’t think I should yet.
Didn’t matter. I’d tell Knight to make sure the guys knew to send me if she needed anything.
With a nod and a smile, I left. As I walked down the sterile hallway, the feeling my life was about to change grew even stronger. Because, as I stowed my mop cart before pressing the elevator button, I knew in my heart my life would forever be twined with Eliza and Lily Jans.