Chapter 21
I paceacross the kitchen floor again, bouncing Livvy in her chest harness.
She’s been an angel since Daddy and Mac went to Jersey to stake out Sacrum again. Even without Logan to give her a bath and put her to bed last night, she went down at ten o’clock on the dot for her big sleep and slept through until half-past seven. Yes, she slept in our bed but Daddy doesn’t need to know that. It’s really hard for me to lower her into her crib without waking her. Daddy’s so tall, he just bends at the waist but I have to go up on my tip-toes and then lower her off my chest and she startles like I’m dropping her and starts crying. Climbing into our bed with her last night was so much easier.
Livvy’s not what’s gotten me pacing.
I’m pacing in part because I’m excited to meet Joker’s B. Daddy and Mac are bringing her to breakfast. Well, brunch. But still, how exciting is that? A real-life thief! I have all kinds of questions for her. How did she find Sacrum? How did she first get in? How did she evade the posse? Does she know how to pick locks? How did she avoid Daddy’s cameras? Sooo many questions. I hope Daddy will let me ask some of them.
The second reason I’m pacing is because of the letter that arrived this morning. It was addressed to me, so I opened it but I wish I’d waited until Daddy was back.
It was from Miranda.
Dear Emily,
I implore you to let me see my baby. I feel like I’m dying without her. You must have held her. You know her baby smell, how soft she is in your arms. Please let me hold her just one more time. You know Logan’s punishing me by keeping me away from Olivia. You know this is a monstrous thing to do. He’s hurting Olivia as well as me. You heard the way she cried for me. I’ve come all this way. I’m staying at the First Park hotel. Bring my baby to me. Do the right thing, Emily.
Miranda
I don’t know what to do. I do know that baby smell, and how soft Livvy feels in my arms. I can’t imagine anyone taking her away from us now and she’s not even mine. I don’t want to feel any sympathy for Miranda but I do. I hate what we’re putting her through.
But I trust my Daddy. He’s cut off contact with her for good reasons. I don’t want to know what horrible things she did that resulted in the judge taking away custody of her baby—I mean, even more horrible than tricking Daddy into getting her pregnant, which is horrible enough on its own—I absolutely trust Daddy’s reasoning.
But it does feel cruel.
I’m glad I’m not a daddy. My heart is much too soft.
The doorbell rings and I abandon my pacing to answer it. Sable’s there before me, weaving back and forth on the welcome mat and sniffing. I know it’s not Daddy. Manny only picked up everyone in Jersey twenty minutes ago, so they’ll be a while. But there are lots of other people coming to this meeting, so I’m not sure who will arrive first.
I check the door cam and disable the security when I see Mistress Maude. She walks through; a young man a few inches taller than Maude follows her closely. He’s wearing a gray hoodie pulled up around his face under a big overcoat and loose sweatpants. That tells me he’s wearing his fursuit today.
I hold my hands out for his outer-wear. Georgie kisses me on the cheek and peels off his coat, hoodie, and sweatpants carefully. He’s been really generous about letting me inspect his fursuit. I know other fursons are not cool with having their fursuits handled. Georgie’s mouse-suit is the softest, finest synthetic fur. He says it’s durable but I’ve noticed he’s careful with it, particularly when he’s putting clothes on over it or taking them off.
He straightens his hood, lining up the ears, takes his paws out of his coat pocket and puts them on. He leaves his mouse-face off.
“I don’t want to scare the baby,” he says.
Mistress Maude strokes his shoulder. “There’s nothing scary about your mouse-face, darling. Livvy will be enchanted.”
Georgie’s eyes search mine. “Do you think so?”
I think babies are adaptable. “Put it on and let’s see,” I suggest.
Sable chooses that moment to start winding around Georgie’s ankles and purring like a motorboat. Georgie shakes his head. “Not today. I’m going to eat anyway. Better not to eat with my mouse-face on.”
Mistress Maude sighs softly and strokes Georgie’s nape. She slips off her high-heeled boots and they follow me through to the kitchen.
I’ve set up a buffet with breakfasty foods, including bacon, sausage links, scrambled eggs, and waffles. The waffles were a special request in Daddy’s text this morning telling me to expect about a dozen people for brunch, which is odd because he usually prefers crepes but it’s no trouble to make waffles. Everything’s covered to keep it warm, and the eggs and meat are on the small hot plate I brought from Syracuse. But I think I’ll ask Daddy to add some of those big food warmers that are heated with paraffin burners to our budget. We’re entertaining so often now that he’s recovered, it makes sense to have bigger warmers.
I start to make tea for Mistress Maude but Georgie gently brushes me aside after I get out a cup and teabag. He takes a small bag of loose tea and one of those pretty silver tea balls out of Maude’s bag. The resulting black tea smells heavenly.
“What is that?” I ask after I make cups of green tea for me and Georgie.
“It’s called Panda Dung but I promise there’s no poo in it,” Georgie says.
I giggle at the name.
As we’re carrying the tea to the table, the front door opens. Bren’s voice follows the sound of the heavy door closing. “Hey-ho the house,” she calls. “It’s just me.”
“We’re in the kitchen, just me,” Maude calls back.
Brenna’s grinning as she rounds the corner from the hallway. She went to the shop this morning to do a tattoo but Master Mac asked her to come back to meet with Joker’s B. The house is warm, although we’re all keeping our clothes on with Joker’s B coming, she’s stripped down to a T-shirt and her oxblood leather pants, her dreadlocks unbound and flowing over her shoulders. For the first time since I’ve known her, Bren looks her age. She’s only twenty-seven, five years younger than me but she’s been so down while I’ve known her that people always assume she’s older than me.
Today, she looks a carefree twenty-something. She walks lightly through the great room, holding open her arms. “Baby time!”
I unhook the harness and hand Livvy to Bren. Livvy kicks and coos as I pass her over, then grabs at the blue peonies tattooed on Bren’s neck. Bren lifts her up and blows a huge raspberry against Livvy’s cheek, which has the baby squealing.
“Where’s Daddy Lo and Sir?” Bren asks me as she cradles Livvy against her chest.
“Still probably fifteen or twenty minutes away, depending on the traffic.”
Bren nods. “Didn’t seem too bad as I walked over but no idea what the tunnel’s like.” She smooches Livvy’s soft head, then turns to Mistress Maude and dips her a little curtsey. “Mistress. Georgie. Good morning.”
“Good morning, dear. Georgie would like to stop by and look at your designs. I think a set of chains around his ankles would be delicious. Shall I bring him by over the weekend?”
Brenna nods. “I’m in both mornings. Georgie, if I can get a sample of your fursuit, I’ll find some ink so I can tattoo your fursuit as well as your skin, if that’s something you’d like?”
Georgie’s naturally-hooded eyes go wide. “Yes, please.”
Bren smiles at him. “I’m used to tattooing scar tissue. I do a lot of mastectomy pieces. I think it will be similar. I can try doing both your fursuit and your skin at the same time but I think it would be better if we did them separately to avoid the ink bleeding through the layers.”
“Whatever you think’s best.”
The doorbell rings again and since Bren’s got the baby, I patter off to answer it. Master Theo leans against the door frame. His expression is sour and there are deep shadows under his eyes.
“Hi, Master Theo.”
“Hi, Emmy. Everyone here?”
I shake my head. “Mistress Maude, Georgie, and DirtyGurl.”
He grunts and pushes off the door, following me into the house. He’s used to Daddy’s rules so he takes off his shoes without being asked and hands me his coat.
This is the first time since things got ugly with Brenna and the thief who stole her designs that I’ve seen Master Theo. He doesn’t seem angry or resentful at the way Daddy and Master Mac treated him, just very tired.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee, Master Theo?” I ask when we reach the kitchen.
“God, yes. Make it a double. This is going to be a long-ass day.”
“Yes, sir.” I start a pot perking, then answer the door for Mistress Dana and Austin and make them drinks, too.
Everyone’s got drinks and seats when Daddy and Mac arrive. A skinny, brown-haired girl walks between them. Her head is up, jaw jutting but her eyes dart to every face and away.
I greet her before Daddy and Mac make her feel any more like she’s walking to her own execution.
“Hi, I’m Emily. It’s so nice to meet you.” I hold both hands out.
She glances at my hands like she’s not sure what to do. Then she bursts into tears.
I look to Brenna, who hands Olivia off to Mac and comes up on the girl’s other side. We put our arms around her. Maude fishes a pack of tissues out of her bag and passes them over to us. I help the girl mop up her tears.
“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “You’re in a safe place.”
She blows her nose and looks around uncertainly. “I don’t know.”
“I promise it is. Would you like some breakfast? I made sausages and bacon and lots of waffles.”
“You really made waffles?”
“Sure.” I tug on her hand. “Come and see all the toppings. I’ve got strawberries and bananas and blueberries and peaches.”
The girl follows me without much prompting. Brenna trails after us. We load up a plate and I get her settled at the table across from Master Theo and next to Daddy. Then I go and make plates for Daddy and myself.
Daddy rewards me with a forehead kiss when I serve him and seat myself. He has Livvy tucked into his right arm, her head cradled in the curve of his shoulder. She’s looking up at him, her face shifting with his every expression. I know from reading baby books that she’s listening, learning, the way babies do but she looks up at him so adoringly. I can’t believe it’s not love. When he notices, he hums a bar of “Gaston” from Beauty and the Beast. She breaks into giggles.
I blink back tears, seeing how much Daddy’s relaxed with his daughter.
Everyone serves themselves and eats. I’ve topped up everyone’s tea and coffee before Master Theo finally addresses the elephant in the room.
“Sorry to play the heavy but I’m the cop Logan spoke to last night while you were listening,” he says to True, who has been introduced to everyone by name only. The girl goes rigid in her chair. “I’d like to say that I’m not going to involve your social worker but I have legal obligations if I determine you’re unsafe, so I’m not going to make a promise I’d have to break. Can you tell me why you felt your placement was unsafe?”
True looks at Master Mac, then Daddy. She shakes her head.
Brenna leans forward in her chair. “True, I was in the foster system for years. I had bad placements, too, including some where the fosters hurt me. I promise no one here is going to judge you for protecting yourself by leaving and seeking a safe place.”
True swallows hard, her eyes darting around the table. She tips her chin at Mistress Maude. “What about you?”
Maude smiles. It’s a gentle smile but even that looks pretty scary, I’ll admit. Mistress Maude can only tone down so much. “What about me, dear?”
“You and him have the power in this room,” True says, lifting her chin at Theo. “He’s a cop. What are you?”
I glance at Daddy. He’s folded his lips together to control his expression. I think he’s as surprised as I am by how quickly True’s picked up on the hierarchy in the room.
“A retired nursing administrator,” Mistress Maude says with an amazingly straight face.
Brenna snorts. “Okay, stop trying to bullshit the kid. You’re right, True. Maude and Theo hold a lot of power in this room.”
“Is she—” True’s voice cracks. “Is she here to evaluate me? Like for lock-up?”
A chorus of nos circles the table.
Maude silences everyone with an upraised hand. “I’m not a psychiatrist, True. I’m a retired nurse. However, you’re right that I have influence. I know many people, including social workers in New Jersey. That’s why I’m here.”
True nods but looks thoroughly cowed.
“This is intimidating to me, much less True,” Bren says. “You can’t bring all this weight down on her. Someone reassure her that she’ll have a safe place to stay tonight at least.”
Master Mac clears his throat. “I can do that. True, did you feel comfortable with Walter and Erma last night?”
True nods.
“They’re happy to have you back. They’ve offered you a place for fourteen days while we get the emergency application pushed through. It doesn’t have to be any more than a place to sleep if you don’t want. But you do have a safe place with them.”
True’s small shoulders drop an inch or two. “Thanks.”
“However, Walter’s insisting that we contact your social worker today,” Mac says. “If you won’t tell us why you feel unsafe, we’re going to have a much harder time arguing that you should stay with Walt and Erma.”
True’s eyes slide from Mac to Brenna. She straightens under Mac’s arm.
“You know what? There’s too much Dom energy in here. It’s giving me indigestion,” Bren says. “How about we build a blanket fort and watch a movie? Subbie time.”
I nod vigorously. Bren and Austin help me clear the table. Georgie starts to rise as well but Maude keeps him at her side with a manicured hand on his arm. After a minute, True gets up from the table and brings us a double-handful of dirty plates.
I thank her with a warm smile and get a shy one in return.
“Was Brenna serious about a blanket fort? Because I’m too old for that,” she says as she lingers next to me at the sink.
“She was,” I confirm. “And I don’t think anyone’s ever too old for a blanket fort and a movie. I’m certainly not.”
True eyes me. “You’re a little, right? I heard Master Logan talking about it. But, um, I’m not really sure what it means. You’re not that small.”
I grin at her. “Little’s not a size. It’s a state of mind. It’s enjoying being taken care of and being free to do things I like doing, regardless of my physical age.”
“Oh.” True scratches her chin. She’s clean, doesn’t smell but I get the feeling she hasn’t been able to take care of herself. Her skin and hair look dry, really dry, like she’s been using antibacterial soap to wash herself. “I guess a blanket fort and a movie would be okay.”
“Would you like a shower or a bath first? You can use anything in the bathroom.”
“Is there a lock on the door?” she asks.
My heart breaks for her.
“Yes, there is,” I say. “No one will come in. You can use Brenna and Mac’s bathroom if you feel safer in there. They have a really nice bathroom with a screen Brenna painted. It’s very cool.”
True’s eyes shift to where Bren’s returning from the table with another load of plates. “She’s an artist?”
I nod. “Tattoo artist.”
True’s mouth drops open. “Did she do all those tattoos?” She shakes herself. “Sorry, that’s a stupid question. She didn’t do her own tattoos. She couldn’t reach.”
“She drew all of them,” I say. “Another tattooist who works for her did most of the actual tattooing.”
“That’s cool,” True says. “I’d love to get some tattoos.”
“Talk to Brenna about what you’d like done. She does amazing designs and she’ll hold them until you’re old enough.”
True screws up her face. “I’m old enough now. I’d just need a parent or guardian to sign off on it and there’s no way Blaire would agree to it.”
I keep my expression neutral at her slip but fear flickers through True’s eyes.
“Would you like Brenna to show you up to the bathroom?” I ask.
True nods. “I don’t understand. Master Logan said it was his house.”
“It is. We all live with him.”
True glances back at the dining table. “Everyone? How? Like, I get you live here because you’re engaged.” She nods at my ring. “But how does everyone fit? This place doesn’t seem that big.”
“Some days it does feel like this many people live here because we love having guests but right now, it’s just four of us. Logan, me, Mac, and Brenna. Oh, five, because Livvy lives here, too.”
“She’s your daughter?” True asks.
I shake my head. “She’s Logan’s daughter.”
True’s eyes bounce from Logan to his lapful to me. “But not yours?”
“Nope, not yet. Maybe someday.” I don’t use the word adoption because Bren’s told me how difficult that word can be for foster kids.
True looks like she’s mulling our living situation over with great seriousness. I wave to Bren and ask her if it’s okay if True uses her bathroom. Bren nods. She holds out her hand to True. “Should we scavenge Emily’s wardrobe for something you’ll be comfortable in? Emmy has the best clothes.”
True glances at me warily. I nod. “You’re welcome to borrow anything. Comfy clothes for a blanket fort and movie are mostly in the dresser. Bren knows where everything is.”
“Okay, thanks,” True says. “I have my own clothes but everything’s back ... um, in New Jersey.”
“Borrow anything you like,” I confirm.
Brenna leads True off through the great room while I return to Daddy’s side.