“He won’t leave at all if I get really lost. He’ll have to stay and look for me.”
She was a gutsy kid, he’d give her that. She was willing to face her worst fear to keep from losing her father. In the meantime, though, her parents were going crazy with worry. He wasn’t proud of himself, but it had to be done. “Don’t move! I see a giant poisonous spider!”
She hurled herself at him, and the next thing he knew, she was plastered against his chest, trembling all over, her clothes damp, bare legs icy. He pulled her into his lap and held her close. “It’s gone. I don’t think it was a spider. I think it was a dust ball.”
Little girls didn’t smell like big girls, he noticed. She smelled sweaty, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and her hair smelled like bubble-gum shampoo. He rubbed her arms, trying to get some warmth into her. “I tricked you,” he felt bound to confess. “There wasn’t really a spider, but your mom and dad are upset, and they need to see that you’re all right.”
She started to struggle a little then, but he kept rubbing her arms to calm her. At the same time he tried to figure out how Isabel would handle this. Whatever she said would be just right-sensitive, insightful, perfect for the occasion.
Screw it.
“Your plan sucked, Steffie. You couldn’t stay hidden forever, right? Sooner or later you’d have to get something to eat, and then you’d be right back where you started from.”
“I was worried about that.”
She relaxed a little, and he smiled over her head. “What you need is a new plan. One without so many loopholes. And the place to start is by telling your mom and dad what got you so bent out of shape.”
“I might hurt their feelings.”
“So what? They hurt your feelings, didn’t they? A word to the wise, kid: If you go through life trying not to hurt anybody’s feelings, you’ll turn into a big wimp, and nobody likes a wimp.” He could almost see Isabel frowning at him, but what the hell? She wasn’t here, and he was doing his best. Still, he offered an amendment. “I’m not saying you should hurt people on purpose. I’m just saying you have to fight for what’s important to you, and if somebody’s feelings get hurt in the process, that’s their problem, not yours.” Not much better, but it was the truth.
“They might get mad.”
“I didn’t want to mention this earlier, but frankly, I think your mom and dad are going to be mad anyway. Not at first. At first they’ll be so happy to see you they’re going to slobber all over you. But after that wears off-now, I’m just taking a guess here-after that I think you’re going to have to do some fancy footwork.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means being smart about how you handle yourself so you don’t get in too much trouble.”
“Like what?”
“Like… when they finally stop the slobbering, they’re going to start getting upset with you for running away, and that’s when you’re in the danger zone. You’re going to need to lay on the guilt about how you heard them fighting, and-this is the important part-while you’re doing that, you should probably cry a little and look pitiful. Can you do that?”
“I’m not sure.”
He smiled to himself. “Let’s go over to the door, where the light’s a little better, and I’ll show you. Is that okay?”
“Okay.”
He picked her up and carried her to the door. The toes of her sandals banged into his shins. She clung to his neck, too big to be carried but feeling the need. When they reached the door, he crouched down again, ignoring the mud to sit with her on his lap. It had stopped raining, and there was enough light to make out a very dirty, tear- streaked face and solemn, expressive eyes gazing at him as if he were Santa Claus. If she only knew.
“Okay, the idea here is to keep from getting grounded for the rest of your life, right?”
She nodded solemnly.
“So once they calm down, they’re going to decide they have to punish you to make sure you never do anything like this again.” He whipped her a lethal-weapon look. “And just so we’re clear, if you ever
Another solemn nod. “I promise.”
“Good.” He pushed a little spike of hair away from her face. “When your parents start talking to you about taking the consequences for your actions, that means they’re thinking about punishment, so you have to start telling them about why you ran away. And make sure you don’t forget to say how bad it made you feel when you heard them fighting because, face it, that’s your ace in the hole. Naturally, talking about it is going to make you sad again, which is good, because you’re going to use that emotion to look as pitiful as you can. Got it?”
“Do I have to cry?”
“It wouldn’t hurt. Let me see how you’re going to do it. Give me a real pitiful look.”
She gazed up at him, all big sad eyes, just about the most pitiful thing he’d ever seen, except he realized she hadn’t started yet, and he nearly laughed as she screwed up her face, pinched her lips, and took a huge, dramatic snuffle.
“You’re overplaying your hand, kiddo.”
“What d’you mean?”
“Make it more real. Just think about something sad, like being locked in your room for the rest of your life with all your toys taken away, and let it come out on your face.”
“Or about having my daddy go away forever?”
“That should do it.”
She mulled it over for a minute, and before long she’d worked up some pretty good misery, complete with a lip quiver.
“Excellent.” He needed to put a quick end to the acting lesson before she got carried away. “Now give me a quick summary of the script so far.”
She dabbed at her nose with the back of a skinny arm. “If they start to get mad, I have to tell them about hearing them fighting and how I feel about Daddy leaving, even if it hurts their feelings. And I can cry when I tell them. I just think about something really sad, like my daddy going away, and look pitiful.”
“You got it. Gimme five.”
They smacked hands, she grinned, and it was like watching the sun come out.
As he led her by the hand through the wet grass up the hill, he remembered his earlier promise and grimaced. “You don’t still need to talk to Dr. Isabel, do you?” The last thing he wanted was for Reverend Feelgood to undermine all his hard work with what would surely be talk of honest repentance. Soon the lip quiver would be yesterday’s news.
“I think I’m okay now. But”-she gripped his hand a little tighter-“would you… Could you stay with me when I talk to them?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I think it is. If you stayed with me, you could, you know, look pitiful, too.”
“Everybody wants to direct.”
“What?”
“Trust me when I tell you that I’d only screw up your big scene. But I promise to check in on you. And if they decide to lock you up in a dungeon or anything, I’ll smuggle you some candy bars.”
“They wouldn’t do that.”
Her look of mild reproof reminded him of Isabel, and he smiled. “Exactly. So what are you scared of?”
Briggs had just arrived back at the house to check in, so they were all gathered in front when Ren came up the path from the farmhouse with her. The minute they saw her, both parents started to run. Then they were on their knees in the gravel, half smothering the poor kid.
“Steffie! Oh, my God, Steffie!”
They kissed her, checked her over to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and then Tracy jumped up and tried to slobber Ren with kisses. Briggs actually reached out to hug him, something Ren managed to avoid by bending over to tie his shoelace. Isabel, in the meantime, stood there looking proud, which annoyed the hell out of him. What had she
