John couldn’t believe this was the same little girl he’d first met in June. He looked down at her and wondered where the chatterbox had gone.
“Would you like to come inside?” Georgeanne asked.
He would have preferred to shake her and demand to know what she’d done to his daughter. “No. We need to get going.”
“Where?”
He looked into those big sunglasses of hers and thought about telling her it was none of her damn business. “I want to show Lexie where I live.” He reached for the clipboard and slid it from Lexie’s grasp. “I’ll have her back at nine,” he said, and handed the clipboard to Georgeanne.
“‘Bye, Mommy. I love you.”
Georgeanne looked down and pasted on one of those fake smiles of hers. “Give me some sugar, precious darlin‘.”
Lexie stood on her tiptoes and kissed her mother good-bye. As John watched, he knew that he wanted what Georgeanne had. He wanted his child’s love and affection. He wanted her to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him and tell him she loved him. He wanted to hear her call him daddy.
He was sure that once he got Lexie to his house and she relaxed, once she was away from Georgeanne’s influence, she would turn back into the little girl he’d come to know.
But it didn’t happen. The little girl he picked up at seven was the same girl he took back home at nine. Talking to her was like skating across soft ice-slow and as aggravating as hell. She hadn’t had much to say about his houseboat, and she hadn’t immediately wanted to know where all the bathrooms were located, which surprised him because in Cannon Beach, bathroom locations had seemed like serious business to her.
He’d showed her the spare bedroom he’d cleared for her, and he’d told her that he’d take her shopping and she could furnish it any way she liked. He’d thought she’d like the idea, but she’d just nodded and asked to go out on the deck below. She’d showed a spark of interest in his boat, so they’d jumped in the Sundancer and slowly cruised the lake. He’d watched her check out the cabin and open the compact refrigerator in the galley console. He’d put her on his lap so she could steer. Her eyes had widened and the corners of her mouth had finally tilted up into a smile, but she hadn’t said much.
By the time he pulled in front of her house two hours after leaving it, his mood matched the storm clouds quickly gathering overhead. He didn’t know the little girl he’d just spent the evening with, but she wasn’t Lexie. His Lexie laughed and giggled and talked water upstream.
The Range Rover had barely rolled to a stop before Georgeanne was out of her house and walking toward them. She wore a loose-fitting lace dress that swayed about her ankles when she moved, and her hair was piled up on top of her head.
A little girl standing in a yard across the street called Lexie’s name and frantically waved a Barbie with long blond hair.
“Who’s that?” John asked as he helped Lexie unbuckle her seat belt.
“Amy,” she answered, opened the door, and jumped out of the four-wheel-drive vehicle. “Mom, can I go play with Amy? She gots a new Mermaid Barbie, and I can show it to you ‘cause that’s the one I want, too.”
Georgeanne looked up at John as he walked around the front of the Range Rover. Their eyes met briefly before she dropped her gaze to her daughter. “It’s going to rain.”
“Please,” she begged, bouncing up and down as if she had springs in her heels. “Just for a few minutes?”
“For fifteen minutes.” Georgeanne reached for Lexie’s shoulder before she had a chance to run off. “What do you say to John?”
Lexie stilled and stared at his middle. “Thank you, John,” she said at practically a whisper. “I had a nice time.”
No kisses. No I love you, Daddies. He hadn’t expected love and affection so soon, but as he looked down at the part in Lexie’s hair, he knew he would have to wait longer than he’d anticipated. “Maybe next time we’ll go to the Key Arena, and I’ll show you where I work.” When his offer didn’t get an enthusiastic response, he added, “Or we can go to the mall.” John hated the mall, but he wasn’t a patient man.
The corners of Lexie’s mouth tilted upward. “Okay,” she said, then walked to the curb. She looked both ways, then dashed across the street. “Hey, Amy,” she hollered, “guess what I did. I went on a big boat, and we drove by Gas Works Park, and I saw a fish jump out of the water and John ran over it. John has a bed and a fridge in his boat, and I got to drive for a real long, long time too.”
John watched the two little girls walk toward the front door to Amy’s house, then he turned toward Georgeanne. “What have you done to her?”
She looked up at him and her brows drew together over her green eyes. “I haven’t done anything to her.”
“Bullshit. That is not the same Lexie I met in June. What have you said to her?”
She stared at him for several lengthy moments before she suggested, “Let’s go inside.”
He didn’t want to go inside. He didn’t want to have tea and discuss things rationally. He didn’t feel like cooperating with her. He was furious and he wanted to yell. “This is fine.”
“John, I won’t have this conversation with you on my front lawn.”
He returned her stare, then motioned for her to lead the way. Following her around the side of her house, he purposely kept his gaze pinned to the back of her head. He didn’t want to notice the way she moved. In the past, he’d always appreciated the way her hips made the hems of her dresses sway. Now he wasn’t in the mood to appreciate anything about her.
He followed her into a backyard bursting with pastel color, a feminine kaleidoscope so typical of Georgeanne. Flowers bobbed in the prestorm breeze while a sprinkler watered the grass near a blue and white striped swing set. The little plastic shopping cart he recognized from the first time he’d met Lexie sat next to a wheelbarrow; both were stuffed with dead flowers and weeds. As he glanced around the yard, he was struck by the contrast in their houses. Georgeanne’s home had a yard and a swing set, a flower garden, and a lawn that needed to be mowed. She lived on a street where a kid could ride a bike and where there was a smooth sidewalk for Lexie to skate. The moorage alone for John’s houseboat cost almost as much as Georgeanne’s entire mortgage. He had a great view and a great house