The Forgotten Child, Lorhainne Eckhart [bearly read books txt] 📗

her worn out brilliant green couch had seen better days. She dropped into her Scottish plaid glider rocker and let out a sigh; a contented sound, like every burden inside was gone. She put Katy down on the ugly beige carpet, where she toddled off to pick up her dolly with blue ink stains streaked across its plastic face. Emily watched as Katy plopped the doll into the doll-sized stroller parked by the fireplace, and began to push her around the living room. “We need to move to his ranch.”

“Move? Why?” Gina perched across from Emily on the edge of the dark green sofa.

“The job’s full-time care of his young son. He’s a single father and runs the ranch alone. He needs someone there to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner. It’s what I already do; except, now, I’ll be getting paid for it.” Emily couldn’t suppress a slight grin.

“Does he have a house on his property for you to live in?” Gina flattened both her hands across her knees.

“We’ll be moving into his house. It’s large, and there’s enough room.” There was a slight hitch in Emily’s voice. And Gina, being Gina, never missed anything, and could make anyone, trying to keep the slightest detail from her, squirm. Gina narrowed her dark brown eyes, and stiffened her spine as she leaned forward.

“Call it a gift from my mother side, but, honey, I’m one Irish-Italian girl you can’t pull anything over on. There’s a whole schwack of problems with that arrangement, and I know you’re holding something back from me. So, you may as well spill it—all of it.”

Emily looked up at the low dingy stucco ceiling and rocked the squeaky chair. She answered without meeting the narrowed eyes that burned another layer off of Emily’s protective shell. “He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever met, and arrogant and unforgiving, and I humiliated myself like the bumbling, socially inept, idiot that I am. And Trevor, that’s his little boy, doesn't have his mother around. I don’t know what happened to her, but it’s evidently a sore point with him. One he’s not willing to discuss, and one he doesn’t hold too highly in his regard… Which, I suspect, is where he puts all women.”

“Oh, I see.” Gina rose to her feet when the kettle whistled from the kitchen. She walked around the bargain basement square coffee table and paused. “Emily, darling, you’d better make sure you go into this with both eyes open. I see that dreamy look you’re trying your damnedest to hide from me. Don’t forget, you’ve just kicked out a good-for-nothing dog. You’re vulnerable; guys, predators who’re up to no good, read that, and will take advantage. Make sure this stays business. Because, right now, you’re on the rebound, and I know you’re dreaming about meeting a real man, but you need time to heal first. So you’d best hide that googly-eyed drool, and forget that you think he’s the finest-looking man you’ve ever seen, so he doesn’t go and take advantage of you.”

Emily felt the downy hair on the back of her neck rise like thorny barbed wire. How could Gina say something like that to her? So what if it was true? She couldn’t shake the irritation caused by Gina’s blunt implication that she was so much of a ditz that she’d check her brains, and fall at this guy’s feet. Emily had good sense and sound judgment. How dare she?

“Oh, knock off the wounded pride thing.” Gina hadn’t moved; though the kettle still shrilled in the kitchen. So Emily gripped the arm of the rocker and started to get up.

“Sit down, Em. As your friend, I have the right to point out some potentially dangerous pitfalls. Friends watch each other’s back, especially when we’ve checked our heads in the nearest closet. This, hot-to-trot, arrogant guy’s your boss. You make sure you protect yourself. He sounds volatile, and men like that can be real jerks. You’ll be living in his house. Different rules apply. A mutual respect, for one. Katy will be there; make sure it stays comfortable for her.”

Gina leaned down and kissed Emily on the forehead, and then raced into the kitchen to silence the piercing kettle. Emily closed her eyes and rocked. When Emily opened her eyes; her bright blue-eyed angel watched her, as if she understood every word, and knew what sudden change was about to happen.

Emily reached out her overworked hand with short, square nails and torn cuticles—a hand she knew would never be featured on any ivory dish soap commercial. They were dry, plain and serviceable. But her darling Katy didn’t care. They were filled with love, and that’s all Katy wanted as she gripped Emily’s fingers and climbed onto her mother’s lap.

Gina called out from the kitchen. “So how soon do we move you?”

Emily couldn’t keep the lightness from invading her voice. She lovingly smiled down at her daughter, who rested her pinkish cheek against Emily’s full breast; her eyelids lowered, becoming too much of an effort to keep open, while she sucked her pacifier. “As soon as I can pack. Brad wants us there, like, yesterday.”

Gina reappeared through the archway that divided the kitchen, from the small living and dining room. She leaned against the cheap looking white wall beside the fireplace as she frowned. She crossed her arms as a sharp twinkling of light sparked in her eyes, and then rubbed her chin with her index finger and thumb, back and forth, a telltale sign that Gina was formulating plans.

“I’m taking Katy to work with me tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll make some calls, get people here to help pack. But that’s after you go to work tomorrow, and if all’s well, and this turns out to be the blessing you so deserve, you can give notice to your landlord tomorrow night. Not before.”

She was good, and Emily knew if there ever was a crisis, Gina was the one you wanted in your corner, handling things. A former secretary, producer, and the driving force behind her husband’s successful glass shop, you were wise to hand her the keys and let her handle things. These mundane details could overwhelm Emily; whereas, Gina could step in, dissect, and arrange a sound viable plan, with color-coded categories highlighted on the notes she was sure to produce. Yeah, she could hardly wait.