Daisy Lane (15 page)

“I knew it,” he said. “Ah, Grace.”

He knew the next logical step was to call Children’s Protective Services and let them take over. Instead he pulled out his cell phone and called Maggie.

When Maggie arrived, Grace was dressed and sitting at the kitchen table drinking some hot chocolate. Her long dark hair was wet and tangled down her back, and her face was raw from crying, but her dark eyes were sharp and wary. Maggie could tell that whatever emotions had overcome the girl, she was back in possession of herself.

Scott had been near to hysterical himself when he called; Scott, who was the calmest head in every storm. Maggie hadn’t even put on her coat, had just run out of the store, jumped in her Jeep, and drove like a maniac down Daisy Lane and then Lotus Avenue. She pulled up behind the ambulance, nodded to the paramedics, deliberately averted her eyes from the form on the gurney, and went around the back of the house where Scott had directed her to go.

Maggie Fitzpatrick had been raised in a home with very little money, where everything was a little shabby but scrubbed clean. Even so, she was shocked when she entered the house and saw the conditions in which Grace lived.

The long term effects of poverty covered the inside of Grace’s house like the thick dust and cobwebs that clung to every surface the small girl could not reach with a broom. It was hot as the blazes, though, and Maggie was relieved about that.

In the kitchen Scott’s face was ashen, and it was all she could do not to hug him and reassure him. Obviously, it was this young woman who was the object of his concern; it was she who needed a hug. Maggie was not the hugging kind, though. She wondered why Scott hadn’t called her Aunt Delia, who would have gathered the girl up in her arms and made everything seem better.

“Hi, Grace,” Maggie said. “I hear you’re having a really crappy day.”

Grace smiled wanly.

“Sorry,” Scott said, shaking his head. “Grace, this is Maggie, she’s …”

“Grace and I have met. I’m a good friend of Scott’s,” Maggie said. “I can vouch for him; you’re safe with him.”

Scott sputtered, “Grace knows she’s safe with me.”

“I think it’s good to hear, anyway,” Maggie said, not taking her eyes off Grace’s. “When you’re a girl, you have to be on your guard.”

Grace nodded so subtly that Maggie wondered if Scott even saw it.

Maggie sat down at the kitchen table and gestured to Scott to do the same.

He was too restless, though, she could tell, and shook his head.

“So what’s happened?” Maggie asked. “I saw the ambulance outside.”

“That was Grace’s grandfather,” Scott said.

“I think Grace can probably speak for herself,” Maggie said, and then rolled her eyes at Grace, who responded with another flicker of a smile.

“What happened?” she asked Grace.

“His heart was bad,” Grace said, in a soft voice. “He doesn’t like to go to the doctor, and he won’t take any medicine.”

“My dad’s stubborn like that,” Maggie said. “Except he takes more medicine than he should and drinks too much on top of that.”

“Grandpa doesn’t drink,” Grace said. “He didn’t, I mean.”

“Is there anyone we can call?” Maggie said.

“I already asked that,” Scott said.

Maggie ignored him.

“My Aunt Lucy,” Grace said. “But I don’t know where she is.”

“I’ve called the state police to see if they’ll help track her down,” Scott said. “They’re putting the word out.”

“Scott can’t leave you here alone,” Maggie said, now understanding why he had called.

“I’ll be fine,” Grace said.

“I’m sure you can take care of yourself,” Maggie said. “Unfortunately, Chief Gordon here is what you might call a stickler for the L.A.W. and also something of a professional Boy Scout. When a minor is involved in a situation like this, he’s supposed to call C.P.S. They’ll want to stick you in a foster home until Aunt Lucy can be found.”

Grace’s eyes widened and then darted like a trapped animal’s.

“He’s not going to do that,” Maggie reassured her.  “You may not believe this, but my family has connections. We go to church with a lady who works for C.P.S., and the local circuit court judge will do anything for my mother’s cinnamon rolls. Scott will get the paperwork started and meanwhile I would be glad to stay with you or have you stay with me until they find your aunt.”

Grace put her face down on her crossed arms and cried.

Scott got a call and left the house to take it.

Maggie didn’t know quite what to say to Grace, so she just let her cry. When she finally raised her head back up, Maggie handed her a threadbare dish towel. Grace dried her face and blew her nose. Maggie was embarrassed at how poorly prepared she was to deal with the child’s grief, and tried to think of something to say.

“Did you know that if you can get someone at Eldridge to vouch for you, you can use the college library?”

“Really?” Grace said, wiping her eyes.

“Do you get good grades?” Maggie asked. “I bet you do; you seem smart.”

Grace nodded.

“I know a professor over there and I’ll get it fixed up for you.”

“Thanks,” Grace said. “That would be awesome.”

“So,” Maggie said. “Are we having our slumber party here or at my place?”

“I’d rather stay here if you don’t mind,” Grace said.

“No problem,” Maggie said. “I’ll call my cousins Hannah and Claire to come over and entertain us.”

Scott came back in and Maggie told him her plan.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Scott said. “Grace has been through a lot.”

“You run along now,” Maggie said to Scott. “Grace and I can take it from here.”

“I could stay,” Scott said.

“Thanks,” Maggie said. “But not only do you need to get started on Grace’s paperwork, you’re still on duty. I’m sure some heinous crime is being committed somewhere in Rose Hill. This is such a hotbed of illicit activities nowadays.”

“Don’t pick up any bad habits from the Fitzpatrick girls,” Scott said to Grace, and then kissed Maggie on the forehead in a very un-policeman-like way.

Maggie could sense he wanted to touch Grace, to reassure her somehow, but she grabbed his hand before he gave in to the impulse. The young girl seemed so raw and vulnerable; Maggie wanted to build a wall around her and top it with barbed wire.

“Get out of here, already,” Maggie said. “Can’t you take a hint?”

Scott smiled ruefully and squeezed Maggie’s hand before he left, saying to Grace, “I’ll check on you tomorrow. You girls call if you need me.”

Maggie excused herself and walked out to the back porch with him. As soon as the door was closed she said, “Is there something else I should know? Has she been hurt in some way besides her grandfather dying?”

Scott’s looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Her cheek,” he said. “Did you notice that?”

“Looks like he slapped her,” Maggie said.

“She says it was the first time he hit her.”

“My mom slapped me a few times when I was growing up,” Maggie said. “I know it’s hard to believe because I’ve grown up to be such a proper lady, but I used to be something of a smart ass. All those old coots think that kind of thing is perfectly fine if it will save your soul. It’s horrible but she’ll recover.”

“I know that,” he said.

“Then why are you so freaked out?”

“Look at the way she’s been forced to live,” he said

He gestured at the house and then struggled for more words.

“Take it easy there, partner,” Maggie said. “I know you were raised a sheltered, middle-class child, but plenty of people grow up poor and there’s no shame in it.”

“Were you only allowed to have hot water on Sundays?” he asked her, his nostrils flaring. “Were you not allowed to raise the thermostat past the point where pipes don’t freeze? There’s no food in that house except milk she’s probably stolen from school and dented cans of soup.”

“Calm down,” Maggie said. “You’re overreacting; you’ll give the poor girl a complex.”

“In my town,” he said. “This has been going on in my town.”

“There it is,” she said. “There’s the pit of the thing. You cannot save everyone, Superman.”

“I’m going to save her,” he said. “I mean it, Maggie. This one is not going to fall through the cracks.”

“Such drama,” Maggie said, taking him in her arms. “You’re so sexy when you’re fired up about injustice.”

He hugged her tight and then didn’t let go when she did.

“We can’t turn our backs on her,” Scott said. “We have to step in and do whatever we have to do to protect Grace.”

“Hey,” she said. “Do you think that just maybe you might be overreacting a tiny bit?”

“Her grandmother was around the same age as my mom,” Scott said. “My sister’s twins are just a little younger than Grace.”

“And it’s only been three weeks since you lost your mom,” Maggie said. “I know it’s hard.”

“This is not about my mom,” he said.

“It’s not your fault your mom died,” Maggie said.

“I should’ve made her go to the doctor sooner,” he said.

“Stop it,” Maggie said. “If rescuing orphans is going to make you feel better, then I’m on board. Let’s do it. Project Grace begins tonight. Just please stop blaming yourself for every bad thing that happens.”

“I’ll work on finding her sister.”

“Good, you go do that,” Maggie said. “Maybe she’ll be a wonderful person.”

Scott looked dubious.

“You don’t think it’s likely.”

“She’s let Grace live like this,” he said.

“We won’t know until you find her,” Maggie said. “Get out of here. Go. Start the paperwork so we can be in charge here.”

“I love you,” he said.

“Woe be to you, then,” Maggie said. “But if you insist, I’m not going to stand in your way.”

“Thank you,” Scott said.

“No problem,” Maggie said. “She seems like a nice kid.”

Maggie returned to the kitchen, where Grace was combing out her long tangled hair.

“Wait’ll Claire gets over here,” Maggie said, pressing a speed dial number on her cell phone. “She’ll be all over that mane of yours.”

An hour later there was a hot pepperoni pizza on the kitchen table and Grace, her hair neatly French-braided, was sipping a strong, fizzy cola. It all tasted delicious and she was ravenous. She wisely did not gorge herself for fear it would all come back up, but she did eat two smallish pieces of pizza.

Grace had gladly let Maggie take over; she seemed like the type of person who could control outcomes, who could sort things out. Grace was too tired to think, let alone make a plan. Maggie seemed so confident and sensible, plus she didn’t fawn all over her or talk to her like a child. She didn’t seem shocked by the house like Scott had been. Maggie’s eyes were by turns flinty and curious, but never mean, and certainly not mean toward Grace.

It felt like she was dreaming; occasionally she would think about her grandpa in the greenhouse and panic would fill her chest, making it hard to breathe, but mostly she felt swept along by events, as if it would do no good to resist. While she drifted in and out of alternating feelings of panic and sadness, the three women chattered and bustled around her house like it was the most normal thing in the world to be doing. It distracted her; she liked it.

The three could not have been more different in both looks and temperament. Maggie was tall and curvy, with wild red curly hair, blue eyes and pale freckled skin. She was the imposing, bossy one of the group. Her cousin Hannah, mother of Sammy, was almost as small as Grace. She had hazel eyes and a prominent nose. She needled Maggie in a way that showed they were not just cousins but long-time friends, and their banter made Grace feel relaxed and warm inside. Hannah brought two pizzas and had eaten one all by herself. Now she was trying to talk Maggie into going to her mother’s bakery to get a dozen donuts.

Claire was tall and thin with long dark hair and startling blue eyes. She had used a blow dryer on Grace’s hair and then French-braided it in a way Grace had seen in one of the fashion magazines at the library. She talked about the reality shows she watched and the gossip websites she visited; Grace, who didn’t have a TV and only limited access to computers, didn’t understand any of it, but she loved being included as if she did.

Claire had brought playing cards, tarot cards, and poker chips, but the three cousins ended up sitting and talking amongst themselves, occasionally including Grace, but mostly catching up with one another. In extremely un-normal circumstances, it made Grace feel normal in a way she never had before; she couldn’t explain it any better than that.

“When’s Sean moving back?” Claire asked, and then to Grace, “That’s Maggie’s brother.”

“In a week,” Maggie said. “He’s going to stay with Mom and Dad until his apartment’s ready.”

To Grace, Maggie said, “My brother’s going to live in the second apartment over the bookstore. He’s having it renovated.”