A Family for Tory and A Mother for Cindy: A Family for Tory / A Mother for Cindy. Margaret Daley

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СКАЧАТЬ shifted so she could look up at Tory. “Me—too.”

      “How’s Mrs. Davies? You haven’t said anything about your new housekeeper.”

      The little girl pinched her mouth together. “Don’t—like.”

      “How come?”

      “Mean.” Mindy twisted back around and licked her ice cream, her shoulders hunched, her gaze intent on a spot on the ground.

      “Why do you say she’s mean?” Her stomach knotted with concern, Tory placed her ice-cream cone on the glass table next to the swing.

      Mindy wouldn’t look at her. She continued to eat her ice cream, her head down, her shoulders scrunched even more as though she were drawing in on herself.

      “Mindy?” Tory slid from the swing and knelt in front of the girl. Lifting the child’s chin, Tory asked, “What’s happened?”

      Tears welled in Mindy’s eyes. “She—doesn’t—like me.”

      Desperate to keep her voice calm, Tory took the child’s napkin and wiped the chocolate from her face. “Why do you say that?”

      “She—likes—to—uh—yell.” Her tears fell onto her lap. “Told—some—one on—phone—I’m—a cri-crip-pled—uh—re-tard.”

      Tory pried the ice cream cone from Mindy’s trembling fingers and laid it alongside hers on the glass table, then she scooped the child into her arms and held her tight against her. “You aren’t, sweetie. You’re a precious little girl who I admire and think is remarkable.”

      “You—do?” Mindy mumbled against Tory’s chest.

      Tory pulled back and cupped the child’s tear-stained face. “You’re such a courageous person. Not many people could have done what you’ve done as well. Look how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”

      Another tear slipped from Mindy’s eye, then another. “I—love—you.”

      Tory’s heart stopped beating for a split second, then began to pound a quick beat against her chest. Her own tears rose and filled her eyes. “I love you, too.” She drew the child to her, kissing the top of her head, the apple-fresh scent of Mindy’s shampoo permeating the air. “Have you told your father about Mrs. Davies?”

      Mindy shook her head.

      “He needs to know how you feel.”

      “She—was—the six-th—one—he—talked to. Hard—to find.”

      “Still, he needs to know. I can say something to him if you want.”

      Mindy straightened, knuckling away the tears. “Yes!” She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes round. “Look.” Pointing to the table, she giggled.

      Melted chocolate ice cream pooled on the glass surface, nearly blanketing the whole table. Tory laughed, too. “I think we made a mess. I’ll go get something to clean it up with.”

      Tory hurried into the house and unrolled some paper towels, then retrieved a bottle of glass cleaner from under the sink. She started for the porch. The phone ringing halted her steps.

      Snatching up the receiver, she said, “Hello.”

      “Tory, this is Slade. How’s it going?”

      The warm sound of his deep, baritone voice flowed through her. Trying to ignore the slight racing of her heart, she answered, “Fine. Are you back?”

      “Yes. I thought I would pick up some pizzas for dinner. What do you think?”

      “Pizzas as in plural?”

      “Yep. Since we all like different kinds.”

      The implication of his words struck her. Over the past month she and Slade had gotten to know each other well—their likes and dislikes. She was even able to relax around him. “Sure. Mindy will be glad you’re home early.”

      “Tell her I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

      When Tory hung up, her hand lingered on the receiver. When had Slade Donaldson become such a good friend? The question took her by surprise. Their relationship had changed quickly, something that further surprised her. She hadn’t let someone get this close, this fast, in a long time. She knew they both loved and cared for Mindy, but there was something else about their time together that went beyond the little girl.

      When Tory returned to the front porch, she found Mindy standing by the rail, staring down at the flower bed. Tory put down the glass cleaner and towels on the swing and came up beside the child.

      Mindy angled her head, glancing up at Tory. “Something—big—went—under—house. Uh—dark.” The child waved her hand toward the area behind a large azalea bush that had just lost its last red bloom. “What—is it?”

      “It’s not the cat?” Tory bent over the rail to glimpse into a black hole that led to the crawl space under the house.

      “No-oo.”

      Straightening, Tory shook her head. “I don’t know, then. Maybe a raccoon. Two summers ago I had a family move in under the house.”

      “With—bab-ies?”

      “Yep.”

      Mindy tried to stretch over the railing to get a better look. Tory had to hold her and pull her back when she nearly tumbled into the bush below.

      “I want—to see.” Mindy pouted, tiny lines crinkling her brow.

      “Not right now. Maybe some other time. Your dad is on his way with dinner and we have a mess to clean up.”

      “He is?”

      “He’s bringing us pizza.”

      Mindy’s whole face brightened with a big grin. She moved toward the table, her foot dragging behind her more than usual, an indication the child was tired.

      “Maybe you should rest before he comes,” Tory said while sopping up the melted ice cream with the paper towels.

      Mindy grabbed the glass cleaner and sprayed it on the table. “I’m—oo-kay.”

      The way the child held her left hand curled against her body told Tory otherwise. “Sit. I’ll see to this.”

      Mindy fought a yawn. “Dad-dy—will be—here.”

      “He still has twenty minutes.”

      The child backed up against the swing and eased down onto its yellow cushion. She masked a big yawn while leaning back to rest her head. Her eyelids drooped, then snapped open. Tory finished cleaning the table, and by the time she gathered up the dirty paper towels to take back into the house, Mindy’s eyes were closed and her head was cocked to the side.

      Tory moved the child so she lay on the cushion. Brushing СКАЧАТЬ