Promises to Keep - Ann Tatlock [75]
“What about all the stuff I said? You know, like she can’t cook and she snores real bad?”
“He didn’t seem to care. He just kept on coming around.”
Mara raised a hand to her chin and frowned in thought. Her eyes focused on first one thing and then another, finally coming to rest on Valerie.
“You say he doesn’t like children, right?”
“I don’t know whether he likes kids or not, but he doesn’t seem very interested.”
“Well, if he marries your mom, that’ll make him your dad, right?”
I laid a hand across my stomach. “Please, Mara, that’s what I’m trying not to think about.”
She snapped her fingers. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What?”
She hopped off the bed and shook Valerie’s shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I cried. “She’s the worst grump in the world if you wake her up.”
“That’s what I’m banking on.”
“I mean it, Mara. Don’t wake her up. You know how she can scream.”
Mara stopped shaking Valerie’s shoulder and gave me a small, crooked smile. Before I could stop her, she pinched Valerie’s thigh and started the child howling like a banshee.
I put my hands to my head in alarm. “Mara! What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” she said.
“But – ”
She wrestled the kicking, screaming Valerie into a tight stranglehold, then picked her up and floundered till she found her balance. With Valerie’s back to her chest, Mara looked like she had an extra pair of legs flailing in front of her. She gave a nod in my direction and said, “Follow me.”
I followed her out of my room, through the hall, and down the stairs. From the kitchen I heard Mom’s voice calling, “What on earth? Roz, can’t you do something about Valerie?”
Ahead of me Mara said quietly, so Mom couldn’t hear, “Yeah, we’re taking care of everything.”
She marched into the living room, where Tom Barrows sat, his balding hairline visible just above the rim of the newspaper. His stockinged feet were propped up on the footstool, and he was flexing his toes as though his feet were grateful to be loosed from the wingtip oxfords he always wore. He was the typical male, resting after a hard day’s work, waiting for his supper, unalarmed by the screams of a toddler, since childcare, of course, was not his job. He didn’t drop the paper to his lap until Mara was directly upon him, and even then his startled eyes behind the horn-rimmed glasses told me he didn’t quite believe what was happening.
In the next moment he had a tantrum-throwing child in his lap. His arms flew out to his sides as though he didn’t want to touch her, this creature that had suddenly been thrust upon him from out of nowhere.
“What the – ” he cried, throwing out an oath that would have bounced furiously around the room had the word been made of rubber.
“We can’t quiet her down,” Mara explained, speaking loudly over the screams, “so we thought you could try.”
She didn’t stay to see what he would do, but turned and beckoned me to follow. Halfway up the stairs we were rattled by the shriek of “Jannnisss!” that shot forth from Tom Barrows’ throat and exploded in the living room.
Mara and I collapsed in my bedroom, doubled over with laughter. We would be in trouble for sure, but I didn’t care. Small price to pay if it would help to rid our family of that nuisance known as Tom Barrows.
chapter
32
“I hardly ever see you, Daddy.”
“I’m sorry, Roz, but it’s too dangerous.”
“What do you mean, dangerous?”
“I mean, I can’t risk being seen. If your mother finds out I’m here, everything will fall apart. She can’t know until the right time.”
“But when’s the right time?”
He shook his head. “You’ve asked me that before, and my answer hasn’t changed. I just don’t know yet, honey.”
We were back in our usual meeting place, the Hot Diggity Dog Café. Daddy had ordered me a banana split, and he was helping me eat it.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“Christmas will be here soon.”
The spoon stopped halfway to Daddy’s mouth, and he looked as though he’d lost his appetite. “I know it will,” he said.
“I don’t guess we’ll all be together on Christmas morning.”
The spoon reached Daddy’s mouth