Chapter 2
TWO
“Ouch, ouch ouch!” Maren Walsh jumped in her chair the second the sewing needle pricked the pad of her finger.
She set her project down quickly in case her finger was bleeding—it wouldn’t do to have a blood spot on Juniper’s new doll.
Luckily, there was no blood, not even a sign that she’d stabbed herself with the needle.
She picked the doll back up and continued sewing.
Be more careful and focus on what you’re doing Maren told herself as she picked up the doll again.
Granted, she was at the hardest part of the project—trying to sew an oval-shaped bottom onto a beanbag doll hand-painted as a fairy.
Maren had ordered it online—she had no talent for drawing—and it arrived as a piece of white cloth with the front, back, and bottom of the fairy painted on it with guidelines for cutting and sewing it all together.
Hand-sewing the front and back together inside out was easy, as was turning it right-side out and stuffing it with cotton.
But things got tricky when she started trying to sew on the bottom, then adding the beans, lentils, and barley she got from a dried soup mix to the bottom of the doll before closing it up.
They kept spilling out as she tried to stitch the bottom on correctly.
It’ll be worth it though, another voice in her head—Maren’s twin, Mira—told her, when Juni sees it on her bed after school.
A month ago, Juni had pulled down an old book from the bookcase in Maren’s living room and handed it to Maren.
“What’s this, Auntie Mer?”
“Oh, wow, I haven’t looked through this book in ages,” Maren had told Juni as she leafed through the pages of A Blue Fairy’s Treasury of Tales. “This was your mom’s and my favorite book when we were your age. But we just called it the Blue Fairy Book.”
That’s all it took for Juni to insist on a bedtime story from ‘the Blue Fairy Book’ every night.
And every night she asked the same question—was the story one of Maren’s favorites, or one of her mom’s?
It didn’t matter how Maren answered—her favorite, Mira’s favorite, or both—Juni would nod silently and file the answer away.
Maren always wondered just how much Juni remembered about her mom.
Probably not much if anything. Juni was only eighteen months when Mira died in a hit-and-run in a parking garage, and since Mira and Maren were identical twins, Juni didn’t even have a different face to go off of.
Maren had been there since Juni was born, and now, her entire life was preschool pickup and dropoff, medical coding, errands, and her niece’s bedtime questions.
And at the moment, fairies were Juni’s whole world. So it was a no-brainer for Maren to buy the beanbag doll printed with one of the illustrations from the book.
“Ouch!” She did it again. Working on the doll brought back memories of Mira when they were growing up, distracting her from her sewing.
Maren glanced at the clock. It was almost time to pick Juni up from preschool.
If only I had a magic wand that would finish the last of this doll for me.
But the last of the stitches went surprisingly quickly, and she only managed to lose a dozen lentils before she tied off the thread and the fairy was done.
Maren smiled at her handiwork. It wasn’t perfect, but Juni would still love it, she hoped.
Maren carried the fairy to Juni’s room and propped her against the pillows.
She checked on the bread dough rising in the kitchen, then grabbed her purse and keys and headed out to pick up Juni.
“Hey, Junebug!” Maren called when the doors opened and kids spilled out along with their two teachers. Juni smiled and waved a piece of construction paper in the air as she ran toward Maren.
“Wanna see what I drew?” she asked as she thrust the paper at Maren. Just as quickly she whipped it behind her back before Maren could get a good look. “Wait. Guess first.”
“Um…is it a phone booth?” Maren joked.
Juni tilted her head. “What’s a phone booth?”
Maren closed her eyes and groaned while a mom next to her laughed and elbowed her. “Way to feel old.”
“Guess again.” Juni jumped up and down.
“Could it be a…fairy?”
“Yes!” Juni whipped the paper back around and showed Maren her glitter-covered drawing of two fairies who looked suspiciously like Maren and Mira. Which of course made Maren’s heart skip a beat.
“That’s beautiful, sweetie.” Maren kissed the top of Juni’s head. “Now, how about we hit the grocery store real quick, and then I need to return a package.”
“Is it that blouse?” Juni asked as Maren opened the back passenger door for her.
“It is.”
“Yeah, it looked bad on you.”
Maren snort-laughed as she closed the door. At least she knew she’d never go out in public in a terrible blouse as long as Juni was on the job.
She’s just like her mother that way.
And for the millionth time, the same ghost of a thought followed:
I wonder what her father is like. Mira, why did you insist on not telling me who he was?
I had my reasons. The imaginary Mira in Maren’s head answered the same way she always did.
“Can we stop and get burgers?” Juni asked from the back seat.
“No, sweetie. I’ve got bread rising at home, and I’m planning on spaghetti with meatballs.
I just need some parm.” A small wedge of Parmesan cheese was this week’s splurge, and she could afford it since she was returning the blouse.
Thank goodness she’d inherited her parents’ house and could work from home so she didn’t need daycare; otherwise, she’d never be able to stay in San Diego.
As it was, things were getting tighter by the day, but she was putting off looking elsewhere to live.
All because one day she hoped she’d pass a man on the street who resembled Juniper.
Silly idea.
There was probably a good reason why Mira never told anyone. He could have been married, though Mira wasn’t that kind of person, so he could have lied to her. Maybe he turned out to be a real bastard and Mira wanted to protect Juni from him.
But, what if he was a decent guy?
It doesn’t matter. She’s a good kid, and you’re enough for her.
Of course she ended up buying ice cream at the grocery store, too, since it was on sale and well, it was ice cream.
Her big mistake was not going to the post office first, because of course there was a line and she couldn’t get past it to just drop the package off at the counter.
Juni was worried about the ice cream melting and kept tugging on Maren’s shirt, telling her she should forget it and go back tomorrow.
Her voice was getting higher, signaling she was heading for a meltdown faster than the ice cream.
I should have brought a snack. Bad Mom. No, aunt. Sorry, Mira.
They finally got to the front of the line, dropped off the package, and Juni dragged her back outside.
“We’ll be home soon, sweetie. The ice cream will be fine.”
Juni huffed in her car seat.
Definitely hangry. Well, dessert before dinner never killed anyone.
Every light was against them, which only made Juni more restless. Finally, they parked beneath the awning beside the house.
“Hurry up!” Juniper kicked at the seat.
“That’s enough, little Miss, or you won’t be having any ice cream.” Maren got out then helped Juni out of her car seat. She grabbed the grocery bag, walked to the front door, and fumbled her keys in the lock while ignoring Juni’s complaints about how unfair the world was.
She finally got the door open. “I mean it, Juniper Marie, you will not have any…”
“Why is the house such a mess?” Juni asked. “You should be the one in troub—”
“Get back in the car, sweetie.” Maren did her best to keep her voice even as they backed away from the house.
“What’s wrong? Why is the house a mess?”
Because we’ve been robbed and they might still be in there.
From the little Maren had seen of the front room, someone had gone through and torn the place apart.
“Let’s just get back in the car and I’ll explain then.”
Maren’s hand shook as she opened the car door, looking over her shoulder and praying that some armed creep didn’t come tearing out her own front door after them.
This is a nightmare.
She got into the car, turned the ignition, and backed out onto the street. Juni was silent, obviously understanding that this was not right.
“Mare?” she said quietly, breaking Maren’s heart.
“It’s okay, sweetie. We’re all right. But, I didn’t make that mess, okay? Someone else did. That’s why we’re not going inside. I’m going to call the police now, but we’re safe, that’s the important thing.”
“Do you think they got Mr. Kibble?”
“I don’t think they were interested in a teddy bear, sweetie.
I’m sure everything in your room is just fine,” she said as she hit speaker and keyed in 911 on her phone while she made a mental list of all her jewelry, the spare change jar, and, oh shit, the extra credit card in the freezer.
Were crooks smart enough to look in freezers for credit cards?
Of course there were—everything was online these days.
If Maren wanted to rob a house, all she would do is watch videos for an hour about the top ten places to stash your belongings and she could be a master thief.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“Hi there, how are you?” Stupid! “I mean, my house. I think it’s been robbed.”
“Can you give me your address and phone number?”
Maren rattled off her address and phone.
“Are you in a safe place right now, ma’am?”
“Yes, yes, I’m in my car and I’m parking down the street.” Maren turned in the middle of the street then pulled over and parked so she was facing her house. “I was only gone two hours, tops. I had to pick up my dau—my niece from afternoon preschool and then we ran some errands—”
“Someone is on their way to you. Stay in the car. Did you see anyone in the house?”