If Virgil had made the threat a year, or even a few months, ago, John probably would have walked out and forced a trade. But how could he be a father to Lexie if he had to move to Detroit or New York or even Los Angeles? How could he watch Lexie grow if he wasn’t living in the same state? “Hell, Virgil,” he said as he watched the older man stand, “I don’t know who dislikes the other more, Georgeanne or me. If you’d asked me last week, you could have saved yourself some trouble, and saved me the trouble of driving over here. I want Georgeanne like I want a berry ringer, and she wants me even less.”
Virgil’s fatigue-rimmed eyes called John a liar. “Just remember what I said.”
“I’m not likely to forget.” John looked at the older man one last time, then turned and left the room. He walked from the house with Virgil’s ultimatum echoing in his ears.
He waited for the ferry for fifteen minutes, and by the time he reached his houseboat, the absurdity of Virgil’s threat forced a strained chuckle from him. He supposed the older man thought he’d found the perfect revenge. And it might have been a good one, too, but John and Georgeanne couldn’t stand to be in the same room together. Forcing them together would have been a more fitting punishment.
Buzzers and bells, squealing tires, and breaking glass filled John’s ears as he watched Lexie crash into trees, run up on sidewalks, and flatten pedestrians.
“I’m gettin‘ pretty good,” she yelled above the chaotic atmosphere of the arcade.
He stared at the screen in front of Lexie and felt a dull ache start at his temples. “Watch out for the old lady,” he warned her too late. Lexie mowed down the senior citizen and sent her aluminum walker flying.
John didn’t particularly like video games or arcades. He didn’t like shopping malls, preferring to order what he needed by mail, and he didn’t really care for animated films either.
The video game ended, and John turned his wrist and looked at his watch. “It’s about time to go.”
“Did I win, John?” Lexie asked as she pointed to her score on the big screen. She wore the silver filigree ring he’d bought her from a jewelry vendor at Pike Place Market on her middle finger, and on the seat next to her sat the little hand-blown glass cat he’d purchased at another stall. The back of his Range Rover was loaded with toys, and he was just killing time before he and Lexie headed up the street to the movie theater so she could see
He was trying to buy his daughter’s love. He was unrepentant. He didn’t care. He would buy her anything, spend his time in dozens of loud arcades, or sit through hours of Disney if he could hear his child call him “Daddy” just once. “You almost won,” he lied, and reached for her hand. “Get your cat,” he said, then the two of them wove their way out of the arcade. He’d do just about anything to have the old Lexie back.
When he’d picked her up at home earlier that afternoon, she’d met him at the door without a trace of eye shadow or rouge. It was Saturday, and even though he preferred to see her sans hooker makeup, he was so desperate to see the girl he’d met in June that he’d suggested she wear a little light lip gloss. She’d declined with a shake of her head.
He might have tried to talked to Georgeanne again about Lexie’s unusual behavior, but she hadn’t been home when he’d picked her up. According to the teenage sitter who wore a ring through her right nostril, Georgeanne was working but was due home before he returned with Lexie.
Maybe he’d talk to Georgeanne later, he thought as he and Lexie headed toward the movie theater. Maybe they could both behave like reasonable adults and resolve what was best for their daughter. Yeah, maybe. But there was just something about Georgeanne that tweaked his nerves and made him want to provoke her.
“Look!” Lexie came to an abrupt stop and stared into a shopfront window. Behind the glass, several striped kittens rolled in a furry ball and chased each other up a carpeted scratching post. About six baby cats were kept in a large wire pen, and as she watched in awed wonder, John was treated to a glimpse of the little girl who’d stolen his heart in Marymoor Park.
“Do you want to go inside and take a quick look?” he asked her.
She glanced up at him as if he’d just suggested a felony. “My mommy says that I…” She paused and a slow smile lifted her lips. “Okay. I’ll go inside with you.”
John opened the door to Patty’s Pets and let his daughter into the store. The shop was empty except for a saleswoman who stood behind the counter writing something in a notebook.
Lexie handed him the glass cat he’d bought for her, then she walked to the pen and reached over the top. She stuck her hand inside and wiggled her fingers. Immediately, a yellow tabby pounced and wrapped its furry little body around her wrist. She giggled and lifted the kitten to her chest.
John shoved the glass figurine into the breast pocket of his blue and green polo shirt then knelt down beside Lexie. He scratched the kitten between the ears, and his knuckles brushed his daughter’s chin. He didn’t know which felt softer.
Lexie looked at him, so excited she could hardly hold it all in. “I like her, John.”
He touched the little cat’s ear and brushed the back of his hand across Lexie’s jaw. “You can call me Daddy,” he said, holding his breath.
Her big blue eyes blinked once, twice, then she buried a smile in the top of the kitten’s head. A dimple dented her pale cheek, but she didn’t say a word.
“All of those kittens have had their shots,” the saleswoman announced from behind John.
John looked down at the toe of his running shoe, disappointment tugging at his heart. “We’re just looking today,” he said as he stood.
“I could let you have that little tabby for fifty dollars. Now, that’s a real steal.”
John figured that with Lexie’s obsession for animals, if Georgeanne wanted her to have one, she would. “Her mother would probably kill me if I took her home with a kitten.”
“How about a puppy? I just got in a little dalmatian.”
“A dalmatian?” Lexie’s ears perked. “You gots a dalmatian?”
“Right over there.” The saleswoman pointed to a wall of glass kennels.
Lexie gently put the kitten back into the pen and moved toward the kennels. The glass cubicles were empty except for the dalmatian, a fat little husky asleep on its back, and a big rat curled up in a food bowl.
“What’s that?” Lexie asked as she pointed to the almost hairless rat with the enormous ears.
“That’s a Chihuahua. He’s a very sweet little dog.”
John didn’t think it should be allowed to be called a dog. It shook all over, looked pathetic, and gave dogs in general a bad name.
“Is it cold?” Lexie wondered, and pressed her forehead to the glass.
“I don’t think so. I try to keep him very warm.”
“He must be scared.” She placed her hand on the kennel and said, “He misses his mommy.”
“Oh no,” John said as the memory of wading out into the Pacific to rescue a little fish for her swam across his brain. There was no way he was going to pretend to save that stupid shivering dog. “No, he doesn’t miss his mommy. He likes living here alone. I bet he likes sleeping in his food dish. I bet he’s having a really good dream right now, and he’s shaking because he’s dreaming he’s in a strong wind.”
“Chihuahuas are a nervous breed,” the saleswoman informed him.
“Nervous?” John pointed to the dog. “He’s asleep.”
The woman smiled. “He just needs a little warmth and lovin‘.” Then she turned and walked through a set of swinging doors. A few seconds later the back of the glass kennel opened and a pair of hands reached for the dog curled up in the dish.
“We need to get going if we want to make the movie in time,” John said too late. The woman returned and shoved the dog into Lexie’s waiting arms.
“What’s his name?” Lexie asked as she looked down into the beady black eyes staring back at her.
“He doesn’t have a name,” the woman answered. “His owner gets to name him.”
The dog’s little pink tongue darted out and licked Lexie’s chin. “He likes me,” she laughed.
John looked at his watch, anxious to have Lexie and the dog part company. “The movie is going to start. We have to go now.”
“I’ve already seen it three times,” she said without taking her eyes from the dog. “You’re such a precious darlin‘,” she drawled, sounding amazingly like her mother. “Give me some sugar.”
“No.” John shook his head, suddenly feeling like a pilot trying to land an airplane on one engine. “Don’t
